Never Again
by Ambs15
Summary: First Fanfic I've ever written. Katniss/Peeta. Post-Mockingjay with twists! Clarification: District 12 is running again. *Disclaimer: All credit to Suzanne Collins, who wrote this amazing series. It's all hers* *COMPLETE DESPITE A/N*
1. Chapter 1

_Crack_. The second egg dribbles into the bowl, and I toss the broken shell toward the garbage can. It bounces off, shattering on the tile floor.

"Wow." I look up to see him standing in my open doorway, hands in his pockets, golden hair dusted with snowflakes.

"Shut up, Peeta." I run my tongue over my teeth, crossing my arms.

He chuckles, making his way into the kitchen to gather the pieces of eggshell. "So tell me. How is it that you can shoot a squirrel through the eye from a hundred feet away… But you can't toss an egg four feet into a trash bin?" He scrapes the last shards into the garbage.

"Again. Shut up, Peeta." I turn my back to him, picking up a whisk and swirling it around the bowl.

"You're being a little harsh, having not seen me for a week." I can hear the childish pout in his voice.

I don't say anything, but I turn on my heel, arms crossed tight. I raise an eyebrow at him.

He breaks out in a grin, arms open. I sigh dramatically and accept his embrace, hiding a smile of my own. I'm painfully aware of every inch of his body that touches mine, his palms on my spine, his cheek on my ear.

"How was Two?" I ask, pulling away from his arms.

He runs his fingers through his hair. "It was… cold."

"That sounds glorious." Sarcasm drips from my reply. Peeta makes his way to a chair, and I return to whisking.

"It wasn't really what I was expecting. More work than fun."

"Peeta, you went there to teach an art class. That's more fun than I've had in weeks. Stop complaining."

"Hey, if you wanted to have fun you could. You're just a boring stick in the mud." I hear the joking manner in his voice, but it still hits me. I focus on my egg-beating, not replying.

"Katniss… Sorry. I didn't mean it that way." He bites his lip.

"Okay." It's a sad excuse for a reply, but I'm not good with words.

Peeta is silent for a few more moments. Then he takes a deep breath, "Gale says he misses you."

My arm jerks from the whisk, causing the bowl to overturn. Egg splatters onto my pants and the rest falls to the floor.

I find Peeta by my side in a fraction of a second, helping me mop up my mess.

"Geez! Are you okay?" his eyes meet mine, and I see the worry in them.

"Eggs aren't usually considered dangerous."

"I know, but-" "I'm fine." I cut him off.

His eyes search mine for a moment, "Okay."

"Thank you." I say as we clean up.

"I didn't know you cooked." Peeta takes in my messy kitchen scene, with random foods scattered across the countertops.

"I don't." I sigh, "Greasy Sae's granddaughter has the flu. She's taking care of her."

Peeta lets out a short laugh, "Here." He leads me to the seat he was just sitting in, and then proceeds to take over the kitchen.

I watch him with keen curiosity, taking in his movements. He's so graceful in the kitchen, as perfect as a professional ballerina on a dance floor. Only more masculine.

I scratch at a notch in my wooden kitchen table, thinking about what he'd said about Gale. My best friend, whom I haven't talked to in four months, lives in District Two now, as a highly-ranked military professional. I don't know his exact title, but I know he's widely respected. After I had moved back to District Twelve, we pretty much lost all contact. Our friendship didn't really feel like a friendship anymore. More like a pen-pal.

I don't realize I'm crying until a tear rolls off my cheek, onto the table.

"Voila." Peeta slides a colorful omelet onto a plate, and carries it over to me. He doesn't realize I'm crying until he sets the plate down. "Katniss? What's wrong?"

I shake my head, thanking him for the food.

"No. Please tell me." He kneels in front of me, using his thumb to wipe a tear from my cheek.

"I don't-" I choke on my words, "I'm sorry. I don't know."

"Don't be sorry. It's okay." He takes me into his arms, pulling me off the chair onto his lap on the floor. His hand gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I cry into his chest, unashamed.

"It's just… I don't have anyone but you and Haymitch anymore. I'm alone. I… I don't have my mother, or Prim, or Gale, or even Johanna." I mumble, "Thank you for being with me. If I didn't have you here… I wouldn't make it, Peeta. I wouldn't."

"Don't say that. You don't need me the way I need you." He begins rocking slowly, hugging me close.

"I do. I wouldn't be here without you. I was always too selfish to see it. I thought I knew best, but I didn't. I need you. Never leave me, okay? Please?" I look up into his eyes and see surprise coating his face.

He doesn't answer with words. Instead he leans into me, his lips finding mine. While we kiss, I can feel my loneliness melting away into passion, as it always does.

"I would never even think of leaving you." His whisper releases thousands of butterflies into my stomach, and I can't help but smile. "There we go. There's that gorgeous smile."

I take a deep breath, pushing myself to my feet.

"Thank you for the food. It smells delicious. But I think I'm going to save it for later." I take the plate with the now room-temperature omelet, and place it on the top shelf of my fridge.

"You're welcome. I didn't want you killing yourself trying to make one yourself." He chuckles.

"Since when are groceries lethal?" I laugh along with him, helping him clean up.

"Knowing you, anything could be lethal."

"You worry about me too much."

"People tend to worry about things they care about."

I try to come up with a witty rejoinder, but none come to mind.

"So I have finally left Ms. Sarcasm speechless?" Peeta gives me a subtle wink.

"Peeta, you leave me speechless constantly." I close the distance between us.

"Is that so? Because the only time you're quiet around me is when your mouth is full." He smiles, his fingers dancing across the small of my back.

"Maybe you should come over and cook more often, then."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning I'm woken up by a sound. My eyes flutter for a moment against the harsh light streaming through my window, and I sit up slowly.

The sound repeats itself, and I realize that it's someone knocking on my front door.

Hastily, I undo the braid that I slept with, and wrap a soft white robe around my pajamas. I hate this robe. It reminds me of those weeks before the games.

"Coming!" I doubt whoever's outside my door can hear me, but I yell anyways. I trot down the stairs and grab the doorknob, whipping the door open a bit too enthusiastically.

Before me stand Effie, completely blue from hair to corset, and Haymitch, who's looking more sober than usual.

"Thank goodness you came when you did. One more second out in this frigid wonderland and I'd be a popsicle!" Effie rubs her hands together, even though they are covered in aquamarine leopard-print gloves.

"I agree with Madame Blueberry. Took you long enough to get to the door, Sweetheart."

"Sorry. I was kind of in the middle of sleeping." I yawn for effect.

"Sleeping? Oh, Haymitch, you were right! She forgot!" Effie covers her face with her hands melodramatically.

"Forgot what?" I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

Haymitch sighs impatiently, "Your interview with Paylor is today. Remember now?"

I clamp a hand over my mouth, "Oh my gosh! What time is it? When will our prep teams be here? Is Peeta getting ready?"

"Peeta has been up since five-thirty. By request of President Paylor, you are not to have a prep team today. It's eight o'clock. We're leaving in an hour and a half." Effie reads off of a small pink piece of paper.

"No prep team?" I squeak. I've never been good with dressing myself up. After my dad died, that's pretty much all my mother was good for, to me.

"Sorry, Sweetheart. See you soon." Haymitch gives me a subtle wink, and ushers Effie out the door with him.

The moment my door closes, I'm up the steps again, searching through the assortment of dresses that I've never worn, and never wanted to wear.

Too gaudy. Too frilly. Waaaaay too pink. I file through pile after pile, until finally I find one I don't mind too much.

I hold the dress up to my body, and turn to look in the mirror. It's a forest green color, strapless, cut high in the front and low in the back. A brown ribbon ties around the waist.

I settle for it, slipping it on. Of course, it fits perfectly.

I attempt to put make-up on, but it turns out to be a disaster. I wipe it off, and start over. It still doesn't turn out right, and I throw the bag of make-up across the room in frustration.

"Everything alright in there?" Peeta's voice comes from outside of my bedroom door.

"What are you doing in here?" I ask sharply, not inviting him in.

"I was done getting ready. I just came over to check on you. I can leave, if you want to be alone right now." He sounds gentle, and I feel bad for snapping at him.

I open the bedroom door, and he gives me a weak smile, "You okay?"

"I'm just dandy." I roll my eyes.

"What was that bang earlier?" he asks, entering my room.

"Um…" I glance over at the scattered cosmetics, and his eyes follow mine.

"Oh." He gathers them up and hands them back to me, "I can help if you want. Make-up shouldn't be that much different than icing a cake."

"You can try. Anything you do will be better than my attempts." I shrug. For the next twenty minutes, Peeta paints my eyes. Then he steps back.

I blink, feeling the weight of the make-up on my eyelids. I turn to look in the mirror, and suck in a sharp breath.

Peeta's work reminds me of Cinna. Not only because there's a gold rim around my eyes like he had, but also because it's beautiful.

"How is it that you're so freaking good at everything?" I gape at him.

"Katniss, you'd look beautiful whether I did your make up, or you did your own."

"No, Peeta, you don't understand. This is amazing." I put my face up close to the mirror, analyzing his work.

"Well, thanks." He sounds uncomfortable with my praise.

I quickly straighten my hair, something I've never done before, and pull half of it back.

"Do I look okay?" I slip on brown and gold flats, and spin slowly.

"Better than okay." Peeta grins, "Me?" I finally get a good look at what he's wearing. It's as if we planned our outfits to match, since his brown button-down shirt is the same color as the sash on my dress.

"You look great." I flash him a smile. I'm not lying either. He's gorgeous.

"Thanks." He chuckles, and checks his watch, "We have thirty minutes before we leave."

"What are we supposed to do for thirty minutes?" I ask, letting my head roll back on my shoulders.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Peeta raises an eyebrow. I wonder if I should tell him the truth. Tell him that what I want to do is to wrap my arms around him and kiss him like yesterday. What I want to do is to dress back into my normal clothes, and just go on a walk with him. But I never get what I want.

"Have you painted anything new?" I inquire.

Peeta scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, pink flooding his cheeks, "Ah… yeah."

"Can I see?" I ask, confused.

"Well, they're being revealed during the interview. You can see them then." He bites his bottom lip, smiling sheepishly.

Because of his reaction, I can't help but wonder what Peeta has created this time.

How am I doing so far? Should I keep going? Review please


	3. Chapter 3

"We're on in ten… nine… eight…" The main cameraman counts down, and I nervously shuffle in my position next to Peeta. My legs are in front of me, crossed at the ankles, but both of my hands rest on Peeta's leg, my fingers intertwined with his.

It's not a set position. No one told us to sit like this. It's natural for us to be physical in front of cameras. So when we sat down, this was what we ended up with. The director said it looked cute enough, and it's comfortable, so I'm not complaining.

"Four… Three…"

"You'll do fine." Peeta's whisper sends shivers down my spine, and rather than being calmed, I'm even more jittery than before.

"Live." The camera man calls, and the cameras zoom in on Caesar's face, a close-up for the welcome.

"Good afternoon Panem, this is Caesar Flickerman speaking. You all were asking, and we finally got you an interview with Ms. Katniss Everdeen, and Mr. Peeta Mellark!"

"Afternoon, Mr. Flickerman." Peeta gives one of his award-winning smiles. I can almost hear the roar of the Capitol, raving over his charm like love-struck school girls. I feel a small, misplaced pang of jealousy.

"Hello, Peeta. How have you been?" Caesar asks, keeping a smile on his face.

"I've been doing pretty well. Keeping busy with the bakery and art and all that. Really keeps your mind off of things."

"Things like what?" Paylor leans in, intrigued.

"Well…" Peeta scrunches his eyebrows together in thought, "Let's just say that if you've ever been in the arena… You never really come out of it."

"I'm sure many of our past victors will understand what you mean. But for the rest of us, we'll just have to imagine." Caesar gives his best look of sympathy to Peeta, and he turns towards me.

Here we go…

"Katniss! You're awfully quiet over there!"

I clear my throat, "I was quite enjoying the conversation you two were having, actually." I give my best dazzling smile. I know I don't have to act for the cameras anymore, what with the rebels overthrowing the government, but it's natural now.

"Is that so? Would you like to add your opinion to what Peeta said?"

"Well… Peeta's really good at summing things up. I honestly couldn't add anything to what he said."

Caesar laughs, and Peeta and I join in.

"So. Katniss and Peeta. I've been getting one certain question from millions of people. They all want to know… Are you two officially together?"

The question catches me off guard, and I'm sure I turn bright red as my mouth pops open. Thank goodness for Peeta's collective composure.

"Actually Caesar, Katniss and I are not quite a couple." Peeta says. I don't know why, but I feel my heart droop a bit when he says this.

"Aw, that's too bad. Then tell me, Peeta, what inspired your new masterpiece?" Caesar motions to a canvas splayed behind us, the picture covered with a sheet.

"Well, Caesar, the best way most people forget about their nightmares is by keeping a journal next to them at night, and writing down whatever terrifies them. Right?"

"I've heard that, yes."

"Okay. Well, I have one of those. Only in mine, I write down every dream, both good and bad, and transfer them onto canvas. So every single one of my paintings is a scene from a dream I've had at one time or another. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, of course it does. It's quite fascinating, actually. Shall we take a look at the newest addition to your collection?" Caesar repositions himself to be facing the sheet-covered painting, and the covering is pulled off.

I find myself staring at… myself. And Peeta.

As usual, his work is amazing. I can see the tightness of the muscle's in Peeta's arms as he grips my waist, the mussed up curls on his head where my fingers are knotted. I can see the shine of the yoke of the splattered egg on the floor next to us. I can see the passion in our kiss.

Peeta has recreated yesterday, and put it onto canvas.

"Wow. You are quite the artist." Caesar gapes at the artwork, as I do.

"Thank you, Caesar. This certain painting is actually unique compared to the others."

"And how is that?"

Peeta smiles down at me, "This one wasn't a dream." He gives my hand a squeeze, but I barely feel it. I'm numb. I'm pretty sure my mouth is still hanging open. I'm probably even be drooling a little bit.

"Katniss, have you seen this before?" Caesar asks.

Peeta answers for me, "No, Caesar. This was completely private until now."

"When did you paint this?" Caesar's eyes don't leave the painting.

"Last night." Peeta answers.

"You painted this whole thing in one night?" Caesar finally rips his gaze from the art to gape at Peeta.

"I did."

"Peeta…" I haven't looked away from the picture yet.

Both Caesar and Peeta look at me, waiting for a full sentence.

"I…" No words come to my mouth. I'm angry at him for sharing our private lives, touched that he would spend the whole night on this, and annoyed with his perfection. But most of all, I'm confused. Why would he show this to everyone?

"It seems your work has left Katniss breathless." Caesar chuckles, "Well, Panem, I believe that is all the time we're going to steal from Katniss and Peeta, today." Caesar gives a brief goodbye, President Paylor shakes our hands, and then the cameras shut off.

Peeta takes my hand and leads me over to his painting once more. "What are you thinking?" his voice is a soft mutter, barely above a whisper.

"I think you are an amazing artist." I say.

"Not about the quality. What are you thinking about what just happened?"

"I don't know, Peeta. I'm confused. Can you explain this to me?"

"Wait until we get home." Peeta whispers close to my ear.

I nod in response.

About fifteen minutes later we arrive back at the Victor's Village, and it takes another fifteen to change my clothes and wash off the make-up.

Peeta doesn't show up, and I begin to worry. I walk down my steps, and hear shouting outside. Peeking through my window, I suck in a sharp breath.

Peeta's on the ground and propped up on his elbows. His left eye looks swollen already, and a man is standing over him, fists clenched.

Even from the back, I can immediately pin a name on Peeta's attacker.

After all, he is my best friend.

"Gale!"


	4. Chapter 4

My heart stops as Gale's arm pumps back to land another punch on Peeta.

"Stop!" I scream, flailing out my front door. Gale already has his arm in motion, and his fist connects with Peeta's jaw. I run up behind him, which is a stupid idea because his punch reloads, causing his elbow to jerk back into my skull.

"Holy…" I try to stay standing, and my attempts pay off.

"Oh, God Katniss, I'm so sorry." Gale has redirected his attention from Peeta to me. His hands cup my face, but I rip myself away from him.

"What the hell are you doing?" I scream, ignoring the slight blur in my vision.

"Katniss… Are you alright?" Peeta's voice comes from behind Gale. He's pulled himself to a standing position.

"I'm freaking fine, now what just happened?" I want to cry, or throw up, or… or… "Why are you here?" I turn to look at Gale.

"I was on my way to visit you. It was supposed to be a surprise…"

"Consider me surprised." I cross my arms.

"I was watching TV on the train, and I saw your interview from this morning. And I gotta say Catnip, you looked great."

"Thanks to Peeta." I say, stoically.

"Katniss…" Peeta looks confused and hurt. The area around his eye is already turning a shade of purple.

"When I saw that painting…" Gale's rage melts away, and he turns to look at me with a fierceness that sends electric shocks to my fingertips. Before I know it, he has my face in his hands, his mouth pressed against mine viciously. I yank my face away from his, but he keeps our heads close, "That could have been us, Katniss." His voice is quiet and shaky.

"Gale, you left me when I needed you most. You left me for guns and bombs." I hiss, trying not to cry.

"You told me to go!" Gale releases me, flabbergasted by my accusation.

"I wanted you to be happy!" I yell at him, no longer holding back my tears.

"Well, look how that turned out! I can't be happy without you, Katniss. I realized that the week after I left."

"You should have realized it earlier, then." I grit my teeth.

"You're right! I should have! I'm an idiot!" I've never heard Gale this angry before. I realize that he's crying as well.

"Gale, go find another girl. I'm taken." I turn to look at Peeta, who has been completely silent since Gale kissed me.

"What? You and Peeta? Please. He even said that you weren't 'together' this morning."

"Gale. Please. Just go."

"Katniss…" Gale studies my expression. "You and I have so much more than you and him. Can't you see that? We've been best friends for years. We've spent every week together."

"Gale. Go." I clench my fists.

"Fine." The tears on Gale's cheeks roll off, staining his light gray shirt. "Goodbye, Katniss." His bottom lip trembles, and I have to admit that it breaks my heart.

He takes a step towards me, and I accept his embrace. "I love you, Catnip." He whispers quietly in my ear, before ending our hug and walking away.

My mind spins, and I find myself on the ground the next second.

"Katniss!" I hear Peeta calling me, but he sounds far away. Tears blur my vision, and I cover my head with my hands.

"Peeta." I hear myself slur. Every noise pounds inside of my skull.

And then I slip into blackness.

"Okay… yes ma'am, I will…. Got it. Thank you." Peeta's voice reverberates in my skull, and the light that hits my eyes sends shooting pain into my brain.

"Ow…" I press a palm to my forehead, attempting to sit up.

"Katniss! Thank God!" Peeta hurries over to me. "That was your mother. I called her after you passed out. She said you probably have a concussion. Please, please, please tell me if you feel tired, or feel like throwing up."

"Peeta. Shut up." I grimace.

"Right. Sorry." He brushes a few strands of hair from my face, "Are you feeling alright?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"Do you not understand the phrase 'Shut up'?" I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Sorry." It's silent for a few moments, and then, "Are you thirsty?"

"PEETA!" I yell, and he smiles sheepishly. "You know what? Actually, I am kind of thirsty." I send him off to get water, and he returns with a glass and two pills.

He doesn't talk, as I've requested, so I take the medicine without explanation.

It knocks me out again.

**((A/N: Sorry if Gale's a little OOC. I'm actually in love with Gale Hawthorne in the books and movie. He just needed to be like this here. ALSO! Any recommendations on the plot? Should I go more Romance, or Action?)) :)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Morning, Sunshine." Even before I open my eyes, his voice is there.

I sit up, running my fingers through my hair. "What did you give me? Because that stuff works miracles." I don't even have a headache anymore.

"I don't really know… Your mom told me what to use."

"Remind me to thank her later."

"Will do." He smiles, leaning back in his chair. He sets the book I assumed he was reading down, and clasps his hands together in front of him. His position reminds me of a father about to give a lecture to their child.

"Peeta, can I ask you something?" I don't realize I'm speaking out loud until the words are past my lips.

"Hm. That depends." His eyes, which hadn't left me since I woke up, shifted to the floor.

"Depends on what?"

"What you're asking."

"Okay, fine. I'll just ask then. That alright?"

"Depends." He replies, a slight smirk on his face.

"Why didn't you fight back?" I ask, ignoring the irritation he's causing in the back of my mind.

"When?" the smirk leaves his face.

"With Gale…"

"I mean, when? Like… When he jumped me, or gave you a concussion?"

"When he was hitting you. You're strong enough. Why didn't you fight back?"

Peeta doesn't answer for a while. He seems to be thinking extremely hard, because that small crease between his eyebrows begins to show.

"Peeta?" I stand and make my way over to him.

"Katniss, you just woke up from a major concussion. Let's get you something to drink." Peeta stands, takes me hand, and begins toward the door. I grip his hand tight but hold firm in my spot, keeping him from dragging me downstairs.

"You're hiding something."

"You're in recovery."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you."

"You're very welcome. Now let's get you hydrated." Peeta tugs on my hand, but I don't move.

"I'll drink something when you tell me what's going on."

"Fine!" Peeta throws his hands in the air, "I knew Gale was coming. I knew that what happened was going to happen. We planned it! It wasn't coincidence that he saw our interview on the way here."

His words hit me like a wrecking ball to the gut.

"What do you mean?" I take my hand from his, letting it hang by my side.

"I mean that whole thing was planned." Peeta covers his face with his hands, takes a deep breath, and presses his palms against his temples. "Gale's boss called me last week. Well, he meant to call you, but he got the phone numbers mixed up. He told me that Gale was doing really well with his position in the military, but lately he's been really out of it. He would ask for vacations every day, and would zone out during drills. He asked Gale about it, and he said that it was because of you."

"Me? I don't-"

"Please let me finish." Peeta sighs, "He missed you. So much that it was affecting his work. So, his boss and I planned this whole thing. Gale was supposed to come and say goodbye to you. That's why I didn't punch back. It wouldn't have worked if I'd gotten in a fist fight with him."

I stand there in shock for a few moments, gaping at Peeta.

"Did you ever think about how this would affect me?" I feel my face burning, and know that hot tears are soon to come. I force them down though, determined to stand strong.

"You weren't letting go of your past, Katniss. Gale only reminded you of… everything before our lives got easier."

"And you remind me of rainbows and lollipops? Peeta, if anything, you remind me of more horrifying things. What's more horrifying than the Games?" I raise my voice.

"Katniss, think about this. I was only trying to protect you."

"Well, you failed miserably, because now I'm more hurt than before."

"I didn't-"

"Peeta, get out of my house." I hiss. My tone of voice even scares me.

"Actually, we're in my house." Peeta crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

I can't believe I didn't realize it before, but I'm standing in Peeta's bedroom, a place I'd never been in before.

I storm out of his room, leaving him with a glare.

I don't try to stop the tears from falling now, as I race across the street to my house. Before the door even closes behind me, I hurl a vase across the room, shattering it against the wall.

One breakable thing down, hundreds more to go.

**((A/N: Sorry for not updating within these last few days. School's back in session, so I won't be posting as continuously as I have been. But of course, I'm going to keep updating, so keep reading :) OH, and I apologize for the lack of romance in this chapter. There will definitely be some soon... Promise :)))**


	6. Chapter 6

_I grit my teeth, preparing for a shooting pain as my feet hit the ground. But I don't hurt anything as I land. It's as if I've jumped down three feet, instead of thirty._

_I spin around, glancing up just quickly enough to see the sun being blocked by a black mass, hurling through the air, aimed straight for me._

_I turn on my heel and sprint through the trees. The creature behind me gains speed, and I can feel it's hot breath on my neck. I know that I can't outrun it._

_Quickly, I come up with a plan. I sprint forward a few more steps, and then throw myself to the left, directly behind a tree. The beast pounds by me, but stops and turns as quickly as I had._

_I reach behind me, and my fingers touch the shaft of an arrow. I quickly pull out my bow, and just as the monster leaps at me, I burrow an arrow deep in its chest._

_The whoosh of air that comes out as the mutt's last breath holds a word. Or, more specifically, a name._

_"Katnisssss…" it hisses, its voice sounding far away._

_It falls to the ground, defeated. But even after I make sure it's dead by shooting it through the skull, I still hear my name._

_"Katniss."_

_"Who's there?" I yell into the woods. The ground suddenly starts shaking, and I find myself in the midst of an earthquake. The ground splits in front of me, and I'm falling through thick, syrupy blackness._

_"Katniss…"_

"Katniss!" I'm awake, screaming of course.

Arms wrap around me, and I don't care who's they are, or where I am. I just want to feel real, solid human flesh for a few moments. I nurse myself back to sobriety, and squeeze my eyes shut for a few moments.

"It's okay. You're fine. It was just a dream." I don't know why, but I find myself unable to stop sobbing for a few minutes.

When I finally calm myself down, I open my eyes to see Peeta's, not even four inches from mine. They sparkle as if he's trying not to cry.

"Are you okay?" I ask, quietly.

"You scared me." He mutters, unwrapping himself from me. I instantly miss his embrace.

"I'm sorry. I had…" I trail off, distracted by red on the floor. I identify it as blood.

I look at Peeta with wide eyes, making sure it's not his. He doesn't seem to have wounds anywhere, but his arms and shirt are crimson.

That's when I realize that it's my blood.

"What…?" I begin.

"I don't know. I heard you screaming, so I came to check on you. I found you lying here and…" Peeta bites his lip, "Are you alright?"

I don't answer him. Instead, I attempt to stand. When I'm fully dependent on both legs, I suddenly become dizzy. My world swims, and I find myself falling.

Peeta catches me, keeping his arm around my waist to keep me from falling again. I survey the room, seeing the red pool where I'd been laying, and the broken shards of glass scattered around from everything I'd broken.

"I don't remember doing this…" I turn to face Peeta, confused.

He doesn't reply, just stares back at me for a whole thirty seconds. Then he leans forward and kisses my cheek, and I know that he's getting ready to let me go. I don't want him to, so I do the first thing I think of, and press my lips to his.

He doesn't kiss me back, and instead pulls his face away. He sits me down in a chair, and we both sit silently as he takes a warm, wet washcloth and wipes the blood from my arms and face.

When he seems to be finished, I speak. "Thank you."

"None of your cuts are too deep. Nothing dangerous." He doesn't meet my eyes.

We sit in an awkward silence for a few moments.

"I'm sorry I got mad. I know you were just trying to help me."

"It's fine."

"And I'm sorry I said some of the things I said. I didn't mean it." I try to look him in the eye, but he avoids my face completely.

"It's okay."

"Peeta, what's wrong?" I ask gently.

"Nothing."

"I thought you were supposed to be good at lying." I force a smile.

"Did you mean it?" Peeta asks, his blue eyes locking onto mine.

"Mean what?" I ask, dizzy. I squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds, trying to regain balance before I toppled off the chair.

"You okay?" Peeta looks genuinely worried, and I can't help the butterflies from fluttering.

"I'm fine. Mean what?" I repeat.

"You told Gale that you were mine. You said 'I'm taken'. Did you mean it?" he asks again, squatting in front of me.

"Peeta…" I trail off, not sure how to respond.

Peeta looks down at the ground, "Thought so." He stands, pecks the top of my head, and starts for the door. I can tell that by not responding, I've hurt him. And I realize that hurting him hurts me as well.

I stand, ignore the cloudiness in my mind, and start towards him, not sure what I'm about to do.

Then I do it, without thinking.

I grab his hand, spin him around to face me, and mash my lips against his roughly. He reacts this time, kissing me back.

This kiss isn't like the kisses I'm use to with Peeta. It's not sweet, or at all innocent. It's filled with passion, and I can feel the hunger for more of him in the pit of my stomach.

I push my body against his, and press him up against the wall. My tongue slides past his lips, and I find myself in control of our kiss. I lead as he follows, and I find myself dizzying, but not from the loss of blood this time.

My adrenaline pumps as he grips my hips with a gentle strength only Peeta could muster. And then I break my mouth from his, panting.

"So…" Peeta is grinning.

"That was my answer." I can't calm my stomach, which is yearning for more of Peeta's lips, but I seem to keep it contained enough.

"Now I need to go tell Caesar that I was kidding about us not being together." Peeta seems to be glowing.

"Or you could do something else…" I bring him back into a kiss, this one softer than before.

And in those few instances, with his arms locked around me, and his smile matching my own, I know I've chosen the right boy.


	7. Chapter 7

"Pancakes or waffles?"

"Whatever you want." I lean back in my chair.

"Pancakes it is." Peeta chuckles, digging through my fridge.

I find myself smiling at his back as he cooks. His skills never cease to amaze me.

I think of how the strong arms that now beat eggs had held me last night. And then I realize how cheesy that sounds.

Peeta had spent the night, because he was afraid I'd have another nightmare. Which I did. But he calmed me down with a few kisses, and I fell right back into his arms, asleep once more.

"You okay?" Peeta looks over his shoulder to glance at me.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" I lean forward, balancing my chin on my palms and my elbows on my knees.

"Just quiet." He shrugs, going back to his work.

"Sorry. I was thinking."

"About?" He asks curiously, not turning away from his work.

"You." I answer bluntly. I can feel the warmth in my cheeks, but I choose to ignore it.

"Oh?" Peeta turns to look at me, leaning against the countertop. A smile plays on his lips. "What about me?"

I don't know how to answer right away, so I just laugh.

"What's so funny?" Peeta laughs; whether it's with me, or at me, I can't tell.

"Nothing." I can't seem to get the grin off my face.

"Okay." He chuckles. "You have a beautiful smile."

I want to answer 'you have a beautiful everything', but I can't bring myself to say it.

"You have beautiful eyes." Peeta continues, quietly as if he's not talking to me. "And beautiful hair."

"Because the 'I-just-rolled-out-of-bed' style is all the rage nowadays." I raise an eyebrow sarcastically. Still, my insides seem to be melting because of his flattery.

"I don't know." He strolls over to me and pulls me into his arms, "I think it's kind of sexy."

"That's ridiculous." I say, but I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning to largely.

"It's ridiculous how beautiful you are." He presses his forehead to mine.

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"It got me here with you, didn't it?" He says, and I realize he's right. His flattery and optimism got us both through the past few years.

"Okay, maybe it will get you somewhere."

"Told you." Peeta smiles, and leans forward to kiss me gently. He pulls away after a moment, and his lips move to my neck. I feel his hands on me, one on my waist the other tangled in my hair. My arms wrap around him as well.

He kisses my neck for a few minutes, and then moves back to my lips.

You could say that Peeta taught me how to kiss. He was my first kiss, after all. I've only kissed one other person, Gale, but from my natural judgment I'd consider Peeta an amazing kisser.

"Having fun, are we?" Peeta and I practically fly apart. Haymitch stands in the entryway to my kitchen, arms crossed. I want to punch the smug smirk right off his face.

"Morning, Haymitch." Peeta smiles at him, and turns to resume cooking.

"Can I help you?" I ask a little less courteously.

"Just checking in on Katniss." His eyes narrow towards me, "Although it seems you've got everything quite under control."

"So you can be going then-" I begin.

"Would you like to have breakfast with us?" Peeta looks over his shoulder as he slips the first pancake onto a plate.

"Thanks." Haymitch grins at me victoriously and slides in next to me at the table.

Peeta sets the first plate in front of me, but I push it towards Haymitch saying, "Ladies first."

"Got any whiskey?" Haymitch ignores my insult, turning his attention to Peeta.

Peeta shrugs. "This is Katniss's house. Ask her."

"I'm not supplying you with alcohol at eight in the morning." I snap at Haymitch.

"That's fine. You don't owe me anything anyways, sweetheart." He says sarcastically. He reaches his hand into his coat, digging around until he pulls out a small thermos. He takes a swig and burps, the smell of alcohol permeating the air around me. I crinkle my nose in disgust.

Peeta places two more plates on the table, takes a seat across from Haymitch and I, and grins at us when we both take our first bite. "Are they good?"

"Amazing." Haymitch and I say in unison.

**((A/N First of all, sorry for how short this chapter was and how delayed it's been. I've been pretty busy :) Second, I apologize for the lack of a forward-moving plot present in this chapter. Next chapter will be much better in that area. I have it planned out in my head already :) Thanks for your Reviews everyone!))**


	8. Chapter 8

I've always hated televisions. They never bring good news. But as I'm sitting on the floor, I find myself deep enough in boredom to flip on the darn thing and channel surf.

Haymitch had gone home, probably to drink himself unconscious, and Peeta had gone to the bakery to make sure things were running okay. He'd inherited the place after his entire family had been killed. He ran it now, but left the main cooking jobs to paid employees.

It always feels so lonely in this big house when it's just me. It makes me feel like a spoiled brat. Or it did, before houses like this began springing up in every district. President Paylor had decided to take some of the Capitol's money and spread it equally throughout the districts, so that nobody would ever have to be homeless, or starve again. Unless they didn't work, of course.

As I think of Paylor, she pops up onto the television screen, and I recognize this channel as the daily news.

"It's always a shame when one of our own dies. And it's always a tragedy when that death was brought upon self-infliction. I don't know what it is that drives people to do things like this. Whether it's mental instability or fleeing from overwhelming pain that causes them to commit suicide, all that matters is that they're no longer alive."

_It's a combination of both_, I answer in my mind, remembering when I myself was suicidal.

"It's a shame to see such a young boy, capable of so much, do this to himself. Being only twenty," my heart stops, "and in such a high rank," it rapidly starts again, "and so well known, he will definitely be missed."

_Gale is twenty. Gale is ranked extremely high. Everyone knows Gale._

"Shut up, Katniss, there are plenty of other popular twenty year olds in the military." I say to myself out loud. But I can't seem to keep my heart from beating faster and faster until I'm staring dizzily at the screen.

"The name of the deceased is not yet to be released to the public."

I click the TV off and find myself standing.

My mind is fuzzy, my vision is bright, and I'm shaking. I'm going into shock.

I lied to myself. What are the chances of it being another boy?

Gale killed himself?

That's when I realize that his motive would have been me. My rejection of him would give him a great reason to jump off a cliff.

I find myself staggering out my door, and I don't realize I'm on Haymitch's doorstep until I'm knocking. He opens the door, slurs something incoherently, and slaps me on the butt.

I push past him, grab the nearest bottle of alcohol I can (which isn't difficult to find), and down it without taking a breath. I'm already reaching for the next when Haymitch catches up to me and grabs my arm.

"What're you doin' drinkin' all my stuff, sweetheart?" His grip is tight on my arm, and it takes a few tugs to get free of his hold on me. "Don't you dare steal my drinks!" he calls as I rush past him, snatching a few more bottles and locking myself in his bathroom.

I've only been drunk once before in my life. I know it didn't help then, only made it worse, but right now I can't think straight enough. I just want to be able to sleep for a while, have a few hours where I don't have to think.

Haymitch pounds on the door, screaming something about turning me in for underage drinking, but I already have the next bottle to my lips.

The taste makes me grimace, but the warmth that spreads through my stomach is calming and strangely addictive. I make myself promise then and there that I wouldn't fall into alcoholism.

Just this once…

I know I don't have to make excuses in my mind, but I do.

It's my fault. My best friend is dead, and it's my fault. I could have saved him. No one deserves this. I deserve to be able to run away.

With each reason, I chug, until I knock myself out.

I shoot straight up, heart pounding and head throbbing.

It's like someone is bashing my forehead in with a hammer. I can almost hear the banging.

No, wait. I actually can hear banging.

I realize that someone is pounding against the door to the bathroom, and try to steady myself before unlocking the door. It flies open, missing my nose by an inch.

"Katniss!" Peeta instantaneously wraps his arms around me, and then holds my shoulders while checking me over for injuries.

"Where am I?" I squint against the light that hits my eyes.

"Haymitch's bathroom. You've been locked in there for hours. Are you okay, sweetheart?" Peeta asks, eyes wide.

"Please, don't call me that." I stick my tongue out. "I think I'm fine. I don't… I don't remember what happened."

"Let's get you home." He begins to pick me up, but I argue that I'm fine to walk.

"Where's Haymitch?"

Peeta nods toward the couch in answer. I see that he's passed out in a puddle of drool.

My head spins as I stagger toward the door.

"You're sure you don't want me to carry you…"

"I'm fine. I'm not hurt."

"From what I've seen from hangovers before, you could be hurt at any moment."

"Thanks for your optimistic input." I lose my balance for a second, but am able to steady myself after a quick trip. Peeta reaches out and grabs my hand, just in case.

"What happened, Peeta? Be completely honest." I stop walking in the middle of the Victor's Village, near a small pond.

"Honestly, I don't know. I left, and then thirty minutes later I came back, and you weren't home. I went over to Haymitch's house, and he was screaming profanity about you. Eventually I found the locked bathroom, and figured out the rest in the five hours I've been waiting outside that door."

Everything hits me like a full blown punch to the gut, and I have to bend over and puke to keep from passing out. Peeta holds my hair out of my face, and I see him grimacing in my peripheral vision.

"Sorry." I mutter, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. My stomach hurts, my head still pounds, and I can honestly say I understand Haymitch's addiction now.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks, and I realize tears have sprung into my eyes.

"Gale…" I choke.

"Gale? What? Did he hurt you?" Peeta's expression hardens, and he looks over his shoulder viciously, as if Gale is standing right there, ready to ask for another fight.

"He's dead. He killed himself." I'm able to mumble, and Peeta pulls me into his chest, kissing the top of my head.

"How do you know?" his voice transitions from vicious to gentle in a millisecond.

"They said on the news… A twenty year old in the military…" I sob into Peeta's shirt.

"Oh, honey, that wasn't Gale!" Peeta pulls back to look in my eyes.

"What?" I ask, not truly comprehending what he said.

"They released the name about two hours ago. It was Jonah Murphey, that ballistics general guy. Gale's fine."

I gape at him, my tears drying on my cheeks.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asks.

"I don't… I'm so… Can you…?" I stutter, baffled.

I'm mentally beating myself for trying to drown my sorrows with alcohol. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

"Come on." This time, I let Peeta pick me up and carry me home, because I'm physically, mentally, and emotionally drained.

Peeta unlocks my door with the spare key he'd insisted I have made, in case I had meltdowns like this at home, instead of at Haymitch's. He sets me down on my sofa, and disappears for a few moments.

I hug my knees to my chest, thinking hard.

Peeta returns with a mug of hot chocolate, and I take it gratefully. He sits beside me, but I make my way into his lap, and we curl up for a while, just enjoying each other.

"Haymitch touched my butt." I mutter randomly, breaking the silence.

"I'll kill him later." Peeta whispers, burying his face in my neck. I take a deep breath, and calm myself. Which I find a lot easier with Peeta around.

**((A/N There we go! A long chapter! You guys deserve it for waiting so freaking long :)))**


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm so sorry." I look down at Peeta, who has his nose buried in a book. He's slouched over in a chair, huddled into the corner of my library.

"Oh, hey! You're awake!" he smiles, closing the book and patting the ground next to him. I slide down next to him. "What are you sorry for?"

"Drinking. I should have come to you first." I bite my lip, embarrassed to have to apologize for doing something so stupid.

"You should have. But don't apologize." He wraps an arm around my shoulders and plants a kiss on my forehead, "I probably would have done the same thing."

"No. You're smart enough to have realized it wasn't Gale. You're smart enough not to drink. You've probably never even tasted alcohol."

Peeta snorts, "Are you kidding me? Katniss, there's wine at the bakery. Our cupboards came stocked full of whiskey and rum. I use it in cooking all the time."

"Okay. But you've never been drunk." I say, determined to prove my point.

"Well, no." Peeta shifts uncomfortably beside me.

"Is everything okay?" I give him a weird look, and he chuckles.

"Yeah. Just trying to reposition myself…" he shuffles to the side clumsily, so that he's facing me.

"What was the point of that?" I laugh.

"Just trying to make it easier on you, if you decide you want to kiss me sometime in this conversation." He laughs at my expression, "Just joking. My leg was going numb." He smacks his thigh, and gives me a wink.

"What were you reading?" I change the subject, reaching for the leather-bound novel that lies on the ground. I read the title aloud, "Alice in Wonderland. Huh."

"I was only on the second page. You had a really short nap."

"What else did you do?" I asked checking the clock on the wall. I was asleep for twenty minutes.

"I hope you don't mind. But I took a shower." I scold myself for immediately thinking of Peeta in my shower.

"That's why you smell so good." I joke, trying not to turn too red.

"You didn't even sniff me!" Peeta laughs, lurching forward and grabbing me. He pulls me to his chest, and I don't put up much of a fight.

"You smell amazing! I surrender! Now let go of me, you aromatic weirdo!" I have a hard time breathing over how hard I'm laughing. But it's the truth; Peeta smells like cinnamon rolls and sugar cookies.

Peeta snickers. He lets me go, but the position I'm in gives me no upper body support, so I just end up falling back into him again. He's unprepared, however, and my impact sends us both sprawling backward, me on top of him.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry." I say, wide-eyed.

"You really need to stop apologizing." Peeta grins. I begin to push myself off of him, but he holds my waist to his.

My heart skips a beat as Peeta reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes meet mine, and I chew on the inside of my cheek nervously.

"You totally planned this." I say, my voice weak.

"If I'd planned it, wouldn't I be on top?" Peeta raises an eyebrow in question, and I realize he's right. He can't lift his head high enough to kiss me. I'm the one in control of our position. He's just holding me in it, waiting to see what I do.

I wink, deciding to mess with him. I plant a peck on the tip of his nose, his forehead, and both cheeks. Then I give his chin a little kiss, and he smiles, ready for my lips to meet his.

But I don't kiss his lips. I slide so that my lips are aligned with his neck, and let myself kiss his throat and collarbone. At one point, I nip at his earlobe, and he gives me a slight, satisfying groan.

I let my lips within millimeters of his own, but don't touch them.

"You love this. Real or not real?" I whisper, hoping to sound sexy.

"Real. But I want my kiss." He pouts.

I grin at him mischievously, and press my lips to the very corners of his mouth, tempting him.

"Katniss." He complains, completely serious. I laugh at his strained expression.

His hands come up to tangle in my hair, and I can feel him attempting to push my head into his, but I resist, kissing right above his lip once more, and then prying myself free of his grasp.

"Teasing isn't nice." Peeta whines, "Come here, Katniss."

I push myself up, and can't help but giggle as I run from Peeta, who chases after me, calling my name.

I trip going up the steps, which slows me down quite a bit. Peeta catches my wrist, and spins me around. He corners me against the wall, and I laugh.

"I like having control." He smiles, breaking his stern expression. Both of my wrists are caught in his grip, and he leans forward and places a single kiss on my lips.

"That's it?" I sound disappointed, even to myself.

"Hey. You're not the only one who can tease." Peeta grins, pressing his forehead against mine.

"I have to be better than you at something, don't I?" I purse my lips.

"You're better at being you."

"I don't know if that's a good thing…" I trail off.

"It is, trust me. I love who you are." Peeta smiles, "I love you, Katniss."

My throat constricts, my stomach turns to butterflies, and my heart does backflips in my chest… but somehow I get four words out.

"I love you, too."

**((:D))**


	10. Chapter 10

I wake up early the next day, but Peeta's already gone to the bakery.

I roll over to look at my alarm clock, which tells me that it's seven o'clock. I groan, stretching my arms high above my head and clearing my throat.

I decide to take a shower, and since I have nothing better to do, I hit the button for the most extreme wash that's an option.

I breathe deeply as the water pounds on my body from all sides, and I plan my day in my head.

_Shower. Breakfast. Hunting. Visit Peeta. Lunch…_

I realize that there's nothing else to do, and I only have the next six hours planned out.

My life is a bland abyss of tiring hobbies and boring routines.

I decide to give my mother a call after my shower, and she answers on the first ring.

"Katniss?" Her voice is as monotonous as my daily schedule.

"Mom, how are you?" I ask, but only because it's polite. I know exactly how she's doing.

"Better every day. How's your life?"

"Boring as…" I leave the end of my sentence unheard, deciding that my mother wouldn't approve of 'foul language'. "So, Mom. Do you think I could pay you a visit soon?" I ask. I don't necessarily miss my mother, although I think I should. She was hired in the Capitol as a major nurse, and I haven't seen her in over eight months.

"Oh, honey, that'd be wonderful." She said, and I heard the warmth in her voice for the first time in a while.

"Great. I'll talk to some people about it, and maybe be there next week. I'll call you and let you know what's going on later." I smile into the receiver, impressed with my mother's partially emotional response.

"Bye, darling."

"Bye, Mom."

I hang up the phone, and then go searching for my hunting gear.

I slip on my boots and quickly braid my hair, and then grab my bow and exit the house, feeling refreshed.

"Haymitch." I pound on his door, screaming his name.

Crashing is heard from inside the house, and I roll my eyes.

"What? Who's there?" the door swings wide, and I'm looking into the bloodshot eyes of Haymitch. "Oh, sweetheart. I ain't lettin' you in after last time. You owe me forty bucks!" he slurs.

"I don't want a drink." I hiss. I push past him into his house, find a black marker on his counter, and grab his wrist, turning his hand over in mine.

"What're you…?" he mumbles.

I scrawl the words Call Katniss when I'm sober on his hand, and he brings it so close to his face he could probably smell the ink.

Then I leave his house, and make my way deep into the woods.

My heart skips a beat when I pass mine and Gale's old meeting spot. I choose to ignore the rising nausea in my stomach, and take my frustration out on two birds and a rabbit within the first ten minutes.

I spend about twenty more minutes hunting, and waste three hours hiking around and exploring possible new places to hunt.

I make the trudge back to the Victor's Village with three birds, four squirrels, and six rabbits stuffed in my pack.

I make my way to Greasy Sae's house, but find that she isn't home. I drop my load into a bin she keeps by her door, just for this specific reason. Then I make my way home, to wash up.

The whole time I'm getting ready, I can't get Peeta out of my head. Yesterday, I realize, was the first time I'd told anyone other than Prim that I loved them, out loud.

And it both terrified, and elated me.

I'd fallen for Peeta hard.

As I undo my braid and brush my hair out, I let my mind wander. Once or twice I catch myself thinking about what it would be like to actually have a family with him.

At about noon, I start making my way toward the Bakery. I smell the place awhile before I see it, and a smile spreads across my face.

The smile leaves my mouth as quickly as it appeared, and my blood runs cold.

Someone's screaming bloody murder, just around the corner.

**((Sorry for how short this chapter is. I'll try hard to update tomorrow.))**


	11. Chapter 11

As a result of being a contest in the Hunger Games, I can now easily identify Peeta's screaming.

I thank God, as I break into a sprint, that it's not his voice coming from the Bakery building.

"P-please… I don't know who you're talking about…" I stop my running, just before I burst through the doors. The voice that's begging sounds like a teenage boy. I press myself against the wall, not daring to peek around the corner yet.

"Shut up, kid. Everyone knows him. So where is he?" a rough, deep, unfamiliar voice snaps.

"I told you! I don't know!" the boy squeaks. I imagine that he's shaking, with how unsteady his voice is.

I take a chance, and slide my palms against the wooden doorframe, letting myself peek around the corner as quietly as possible.

"I'm about fed up with your inability to talk." From where I stand, I see the back of an extremely tall man, standing over a boy that I identify as Jimmy Wright, a sixteen year old who volunteers at the Bakery on non-school days. Jimmy is pressed against the wall behind the countertop with his hands up, shaking so hard it looked like he was convulsing.

His eyes meet mine for a split second, and I find myself mentally screaming to save him. But I stay put where I am, scared that any noise would attract attention.

_Where the hell is Peeta?_ I think. I join Jimmy in his shaking.

"You get one more chance." The man hisses. Then I see why Jimmy is so afraid. In the man's hands, there's what I'm assuming is a gun, although it's much bigger than the ones Peacekeepers use to carry. "Where is Peeta Mellark?"

Peeta's name sends a jolt of both electricity and horror through my body. Terror fills my lungs, and I find it hard to inhale air. My mild shaking turns to erratic spasms, and I have to concentrate to keep myself standing. I turn my head away from the doorway, and lean it back against the wall, closing my eyes.

"I. Don't. Know." Jimmy grunts.

"Filthy, good-for-nothing liar." My ears ring with the sound of a gunshot, and I suck in a sharp breath, knowing that Jimmy was just killed. I gasp for air.

"Maybe somebody else in this hellhole knows where he is." I hear the man mutter to himself, and footsteps reach my ears.

I know then that I have to run, but I'm stuck contemplating whether to run in front of the door and risk getting shot, or back up and let him have full view of me through the windows.

The footsteps come closer, and I make a last-minute decision. I throw myself across the Bakery's front porch, knowing full well that the man just saw me soar in front of the door.

"Hey!" he yells, and I wince as I jump off of the porch, landing four feet down, still running. I feel something crackle in my right ankle, and drop to the ground. Immediately, I take a dive roll and come back up onto my feet, but I've lost enough time that he's caught up.

I feel his fist tighten around my braid, and I'm yanked backward by my hair. I scream in protest, kicking and scratching whatever flesh I can get ahold of.

"Just shoot me already! What are you waiting for?" I scream, spittle flying from my lips.

The man doesn't answer, just grunts as I elbow him in the gut. Somehow he gets me in a hold where I can't move my arms, and I attempt to kick him, but my leg won't kick back far enough. One of his arms wraps around my neck.

"You know where Peeta Mellark is?" He says, breathing heavily. He smells like sweat and dirt.

"Mel-lark?" I wheeze, coughing through his grip on my throat.

"That's what I said, lady." He hisses.

"He's in Two… Teaching art…" my voice is strained, and I don't know if he can tell what I'm saying.

"Can none of you Twelves tell the truth?" the man's voice is harsh. "I should just snap your neck."

"What's st-stopping you?" I challenge.

"You suicidal or something?" the man asks.

"I would be… If I smelled… Like you…" I know my face is slowly turning shades of red and purple it's never been before.

"You're worthless." The man decides, and I can feel his fingers tighten around my neck, ready to crack it.

I hear ringing again, just as I had when Jimmy was shot. I think it's the last thing I'll ever hear, but instead I hear a grunt, a thump, and my own body slamming into the ground.

Then I hear my name being screamed.

And _this _time it's Peeta's voice.

**((A/N: What do you guys think? Are ya'll liking the cliffhanger endings to each chapter? :D Review Review Review!))**


	12. Chapter 12

**((A/N Okay. I'm really sorry that I didn't update yesterday, leaving you all with a cliffy. But, if you didn't realize by my username, I'm only a 15 year old girl. I have high school and team sports and volunteer work to attend to as well :) So, I apologize if I don't update _right away_! OKAY! On with the story! I wrote a super long chapter this time, just to make up for it :) I love your reviews! THANKS! :D))**

I'm able to keep myself awake, determined not to lose consciousness again. I've already been knocked out enough his past week to possibly have permanent brain damage. But my will to stay aware doesn't keep me from falling flat on my face, my huge assailant's full weight pinning me to the ground.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…" I hear Peeta's voice, but it's muffled. I feel a warm liquid pooling in my ear, and attempt to turn my head to drain it. I identify it as blood from the hulk on top of me.

"Ow!" I yelp loudly as Peeta yanks the man's body off my own.

"Katniss! You're…" He doesn't finish his statement immediately, so I fill in possible answers.

_You're… Alive! Coherent! Conscious! Beautiful!_

"Shot." He whispers, eyes wide. I roll onto my back, confused.

He drops to his knees beside me, and I expect him to pull me into his arms to comfort me, but instead his full attention shifts to my left leg.

That's when I notice the red splotches spreading across my thigh, a hole about a half-inch wide penetrating my pants and flesh.

"We need to go." Peeta's eyebrows are knit together, and he looks both extremely worried, and outrageously pissed. He scoops me up in his arms, and runs as fast as he can away from the now dead man, and towards the Victor's Village.

"It doesn't hurt." I tell him, clinging to his shoulders to keep from bouncing erratically.

"I'm sorry." He replies, glancing down at me with pained eyes. _Gorgeous_ pained eyes.

"No. You saved my life."

"If you hadn't noticed, that's kind of what we do for each other on a daily basis."

I'm amazed with how quickly we arrive at the Village. Peeta is breathing heavily when we arrive, but he keeps running to the opposite side of the circle, towards Haymitch's house.

"Where are we going?"

"I need to get the bullet out." Peeta answers through his teeth.

"But why…" And suddenly I know what he means.

I'm shaking in fear by the time I'm laid on Haymitch's dining table. Peeta hands me a bottle, and I take it in my hands, staring at it.

"Katniss, you need to do what you did two days ago."

"Get drunk?" I gape at him, horrified.

"I need you to. Now. Please." The look on Peeta's face makes me put the bottle to my lips, and take a small sip.

Instantly, the addicting warmth spreads through my stomach, and I choke.

"Peeta, I can't. Just… dig it out." I chew on my lower lip.

"You won't be able to handle it."

"I know what I can handle!" I snap. Blood pools onto the table underneath my leg.

"Katniss…" He pleads.

"Please." I beg him.

Peeta squeezes his eyes shut for a few moments, making up his mind. "I need you to take your pants off."

Even in the tension of the situation, I allow myself a short laugh. "Really?"

"This isn't funny." His tone of voice sends shivers down my spine.

I'm expecting this to get really awkward, but as I slip my pants off, Peeta gets right to work.

"Peeta…" I can't deny that I'm terrified. I can hear the unsteadiness in my own voice.

"Haymitch!" Peeta shouts, so loudly that I flinch.

"Huh?" There's the sound of stumbling down the steps, and Haymitch finds his way to us. "Um… Think you forgot something, Sweetheart." He says to me, eyebrow raised.

My leg is starting to lose its numbness, and I grit my teeth.

"Just hold her hand for me." Peeta snaps, clearly agitated. Sweat beads form on his face, and I know I'm sweating as well.

Haymitch's hand is clammy, and wet from who-knows-what, but I cling to it as tightly as I would if I were hanging off a cliff.

"You ready?" Peeta's face is so filled with emotions, I can't even decide what he's feeling.

I feel myself nod, and the next moment I'm in excruciating pain. I hear Peeta grunting as he digs the knife into my leg.

"Towel!" I scream, as well as many other words I'm not proud to have said. I'm probably breaking every bone in Haymitch's hand.

He hands me a towel, which I stuff between my teeth and scream into. Tears run down my cheeks, and it's all I can do not to jerk my gore-covered leg away.

About a minute into the 'surgery', I black out from pain.

_"Two days?"_ I take a deep, unsteady breath.

"We kept you out with meds." Peeta sits on the foot of my bed. Well, not _my _bed, but the bed I've been assigned to on the train that we're taking to the Capitol. Peeta had ordered that one be sent, so that I could be taken to see my mother and have my leg checked out.

"Why would you do that?"

"The pain would've been unbearable."

"I could have handled it!" I protest.

"Well it's done now, so you're going to just have to get over it."

Peeta's snap shuts me up, and I play with the frayed ends of the bandage that consumes my upper thigh. Half of the bandage is hidden underneath shorts.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Peeta exhales slowly.

"I know. I understand what you're feeling. But, Peeta... Thank you." I sigh.

"Katniss, I shot you! How the hell can you be thanking me?"

"You shot the guy that would have killed me. It's not your fault that the bullet went through him and into me."

"I could've aimed better." He drops his head.

"_Better_? You're first time ever shooting a gun, you hit your target perfectly… and you could have done _better_?" I gape at him.

"Are you okay?" Peeta gently lays his hand on my right ankle.

"I'm perfectly fine." I assure him, not mentioning the shooting pain in my leg.

"Katniss, please." Peeta reaches up and barely brushes his fingers against my bandage. I suck in a sharp breath, and let it out with a groan. "Don't lie to me."

"Okay. It hurts. But I have a high tolerance level for pain."

"Sometimes I think it's too high for your own good."

"Who was he?" I ask, partly because I'm curious, and partly because I don't want to start an argument.

Peeta purses his lips, deciding what to tell me. "I'm not one-hundred percent sure. But my best guess is… When I was in the Capitol. You know, by myself. Well… I made a few enemies. Spit on a few people. And they were Capitol diehards. I seriously doubt they would waste their time searching for me just to blow my head off, but I wouldn't put it past them."

"Wow. I'm sorry." It takes me time to process what he means, but when I understand, it gives me a headache.

"It's fine. He's dead now." Peeta stands, and leans in close to my face, "And you're still alive. So I couldn't be a happier guy."

I smile, and give him a quick kiss.

"I lied._ Now_ I couldn't be happier." He chuckles, and kisses my forehead, "I'll go get you something to eat, love."

He stands to leave, and I watch him walk down the hall with a smile on my face.


	13. Chapter 13

I take a deep breath, cool, crisp morning air filling my lungs. I sit in the open-air car of the train, after talking Peeta into letting me hobble down to it.

He sits next to me, staring out the window, hands clasped in his lap.

"You okay?" I reach up and rub my hand against his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine." He gives a pathetic excuse for a smile, not once meeting my eyes.

"Peeta, you're not still mad at yourself, right?"

He takes a deep breath. "Not mad as much as surprised and confused."

"And that means…?"

"Katniss, I've never actually killed someone. I'm a little afraid to know that I have it in me."

"You killed Foxface."

"Technically. But not on purpose." He looks up at me, ice blue eyes intense. "When I saw that guy on you, I felt something inside me snap. I lost control of my common sense, and was running off of pure fury."

"You're fury saved me."

"And also got you shot."

"Please, stop bringing that up."

"Just saying. But you're right; that's not the point. I finally understand what everyone else felt like in the arena. And I don't like it."

"If you hadn't shot him, he would've killed me. Don't feel bad for that."

"That's pretty much the only thing keeping me from losing my mind and jumping off this stupid train." He runs his fingers through his hair.

"What is?" I ask.

Peeta half-smiles, and leans his lips to my ear. "You."

"And I'm here thanks to who?" I turn to press my forehead to his.

"Fine. You win." He chuckles.

"Hm. It seems that every time I touch you during an argument, I win."

"It's because when you touch me, I realize there's other things I'd much rather be doing with you than arguing." He winks, and my stomach flips inside of me.

His lips meet mine, and his hand slips up my knee. We kiss until he accidentally brushes his hand against my upper thigh, where my bandage is.

I wince, and end up biting his lip.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry." We apologize in unison, and I laugh.

"You're leg okay? I'm sorry." He apologizes again.

"It's fine. It didn't even hurt that much." I assure him, missing the taste of his lips on mine.

Before Peeta can reply, a monotonous voice reverberates from the train's loud speakers. "Arriving at the Capitol in ten minutes. Please make your way towards the unloading car."

Peeta stands, and loops his arm around my waist, helping me balance as we make our way through the train cars.

When we reach the bunk car, I ask, "Did you pack anything of mine?"

Peeta nods, his curls bobbing with his head.

We make our way to 'my room', and Peeta tosses a duffel bag onto the bed, unzipping it.

I look over his shoulder, and a grin spreads across my face as I see my father's boots, my mockingjay pin, and the pearl Peeta gave to me, all balanced on the top of a pile of clothes.

I look down at what I'm wearing and short. A pair of fuzzy, pink, leopard-print shorts is accompanied by a plain, over-sized, gray t-shirt.

"The shirt's mine. The shorts… well we needed something that wouldn't rub against your wound. And this was all we found…"

"You let me kiss you while I look like_ this_?" I break into laughter.

"Hey, I think they're pretty hot." Peeta joins into my giggle fit.

"Guess I'll have to get some myself, then." I say in an ostentatiously flirtatious manner.

About fifteen minutes later, we're squeezed into a car. I need to keep my leg straight, so I sit with my back to the car door, and my leg resting on Peeta's lap.

He busies himself by messing with the edges of my bandage, as I had before.

I don't once see the driver of our vehicle, but I get a glimpse of peach colored braids, sticking vertically towards the sky.

When we reach out destination, Peeta has to literally pull me from the car. He attempts to have me allow him to carry me, but I fight my way to a standing position. He still refuses to let my waist go, but I don't complain as he pulls me to him.

We're lead down the long, winding hallways of the Medical Center, every wall white, every tile of floor speckled with red dots. They remind me of spattered blood, but I don't say so out loud. I've learned to keep my opinions to myself around territorial Capitol natives.

After an excruciatingly long walk, we find ourselves facing an elevator. The man who led us here turns to face us. "Who are you looking for, again?"

"Everdeen." Peeta answers. For some reason, just the sound of my last name coming from his lips makes my fingertips tingle.

The man nods, presses a button with the number 26 on it, and then exits the elevator, leaving me with Peeta.

The doors slide shut, and I lean into Peeta's arms, letting him run his fingers down my spine in a tight embrace.

"What do you think is going to happen?" I ask, my voice muffled as I bury my face in his neck.

"I don't know. But whatever does happen, Katniss, I'll be right there next to you." He kisses the top of my head, and I inhale and exhale slowly in an attempt to calm myself.

"I love you." I mutter, surprised at the tone of my own voice.

"I love you, too. Always have, always will." He gives me a squeeze.

I take a deep breath as the elevator comes to a stop.

The shiny metal doors slide open, and I'm pulled from Peeta's embrace into one of a familiar nurse.

"Katniss!" my mother looks happier than she has since my father's death.

For the first time in my life, I share a laugh with my mom.

**((A/N More romance to come in the next chapter :) You guys make my day with your compliments. I love you all! Thanks!))**


	14. Chapter 14

It's been four days since I arrived at the Capitol. On the firs, I was looked over. On the second, they made a decision. The third, I had surgery to reconstruct muscles and tissues around the bullet hole.

Today is the beginning of a four day long recovery and resting period.

And I'm already itching to get out of bed.

Peeta hasn't left my side since I got out of the operating room at seven last night. I don't know if he's even let go of my hand.

I try to ask him if he needs to take a bathroom break, but the drugs I'm under slur my speech to the extent of having it sound like: "Done-chew-knee-duh-gaw-doo-tibet-broom?"

By some miracle, Peeta understands me, and he laughs quietly, "I went less than ten minutes ago, darling."

I frown, thinking hard. I can't remember.

"Don't strain yourself. Don't worry either. It's just the narcotics." He reaches up and brushes the hair out of my face.

The whole rest of the day is filled with attempted conversations, visits from my mother, and Peeta reading to me.

On the second day of my 'recovery' the narcotics have worn off, and I refuse to take more. Even though my leg may be in a little extra pain, I want to be able to do more than just sit and listen to people talk.

"If it starts to hurt, just tell me, and I'll have the nurse put you on a morphine drip." Peeta squeezes my hand.

"I promise I'll tell you if I'm in pain." I say, but it's a lie, because it hurts already. I just can't let _him_ know that.

"So what do you want to do today?" Peeta asks, his optimism shining through.

"What I want is to get up out of this bed and walk around." I shift uncomfortably, making my point.

"Let me rephrase my question…"

"Don't bother." I grumble.

"What's wrong?" Peeta sighs in exasperation.

"Just let it go." I hiss.

"Fine." He snaps.

It's quiet for a few moments, both of us trying to think up a way to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I know you're going through a lot right now, and I should be more supportive instead of degrading." Peeta chews on his bottom lip.

"No. I'm sorry. Just because I'm the one in the hospital bed doesn't give me the right to treat you like crap."

Peeta seems to think about what I said, and then stands, a smile on his face. He makes his way to the side of the huge hospital bed, and slides in next to me, careful not to jostle my leg at all. "here. Now both of us are in this hospital bed."

"So no more arguing." I laugh.

"None." He grins, and I lean into his chest.

We drop into a conversation about my mother, and how well she's been recovering. It's shocking to see how far she's come since I saw her last.

"She's stronger than you thought." Peeta points out.

"Too bad it took so long for it to be noticeable."

"Well you have to really want to get to know someone before you notice the minor things." Peeta plays with my fingers, "Like how you always bite your bottom lip when you're not sure about something. Or that every time you say you love someone, your eyebrows come together, like that word confuses you. Or how when you're deep in thought you naturally look up." I realize that he's talking about me in particular.

"You tap your finger against your knee when you're nervous. Every time we kiss, I can feel your heart skip a beat. Without noticing, you'll run your fingers up and down my leg when I sit next to you." I point out to him, letting him know that I care as much as he does.

"I like observant people. Your mother is very observant. All you've been seeing in her for the past years have been her bad characteristics. But she had many good ones. Your father was a lucky man. And you're very much like your mother."

It takes me a few moments to register what he means. "So does that make _you_ a lucky man too?"

His smile is dazzling, and I melt more into his lips than just kiss him back. When he pulls away, he's still smiling, "The luckiest."

Peeta doesn't leave my bed for the rest of the day, and I fall asleep in his arms; which happens to be my favorite way to sleep.

* * *

><p>"<em>Really?"<em> my mother shrieks more like a school-girl than a forty year old woman.

"Yeah." I roll my eyes.

My mother and I are the only two in my hospital room. She'd ordered that we talk in private, after she walked in on Peeta and I… er… messing around.

"You're really a couple? Like, for real? Not for show anymore?" She sounds excited, more than angry now. Just the emotion in her voice makes her sound like a completely different person than my own mother. It's shocking.

"Yes, Mom, for real." I grumble, arms crossed.

"Oh, honey, that's… that's… awesome!"

I snort in response.

"Well… you're not going to like me for this… but, Katniss, you know we've never actually had the chance to sit down and talk about boys, and relationships, and-"

"Please, please, please, please, _PLEASE_ stop _right_ there in that sentence!" I shriek as loud as she had.

"But you don't know-"

"Mom, I know everything."

"But how-?"

"I was a high schooler, you know. Not that long ago." I say pointedly.

"But-"

"Mom."

"Kat-"

"Mom."

"What?" She tosses her hands in the air, frustrated.

"I'm 18. Technically, I'm an adult. So, please. You_ do not_ want to have this conversation with me. _Trust me_."

She doesn't mention one single boy the rest of the day.

**((A/N What do you think so far? I'm so grateful for all of these reviews! It's so encouraging! But please... Comparing my writing to Suzanne Collins'... Wow guys. _Nobody_ could do better than her. I'm literally floored from all of these reviews. THANK YOU!))**


	15. Chapter 15

Finally the day comes where I can get up and stretch my legs.

Well, leg. The other one is wrapped stiff.

And it's not actually _day_ yet. Unless you consider 12:01 AM part of the day.

But, as I've proved throughout the course of my lifetime, I don't really care about what adults say is best for me.

I roll out of bed, consumed in inky blackness. I let myself adjust to balancing on one leg, and then proceed to hobble towards the door, ignoring the crutch my mother had set out for this afternoon.

I wince as the door clicks when I pull it open, but I remind myself that there's nothing to be guilty of. _Technically_, I'm not breaking any rules.

Still, I try to stay as quiet as possible as I slowly make my way down the pitch black corridor.

I don't know where I'm going, but at the moment, I don't really care. I'm just enjoying the feeling of being able to move independently.

I feel a stitch of guilt when I think of how Peeta would react to me sneaking out without telling him, especially since I'm barely mobile. But the guilt is washed away as soon as I find myself standing in front of a big door labeled 'Stairwell to Roof'.

_Challenge accepted_, I think to myself, a grin spreading across my face. I needed to get out of this hell-hole-hospital.

The door is more industrial than accommodating, and I struggle to pull it open. I have an even tougher battle in keeping it quiet as it closes behind me.

The stairwell is brightly lit, and for the first few seconds, I have to squint. When I regain my vision, I see that there are two flights of stairs in need of conquering.

My bare feet slap noisily on the concrete flooring as I pull myself onto the first step, gritting my teeth. Pain shoots through my left leg, but I choose to ignore it.

It takes me ten minutes to drag myself up the rest of the steps, but when I stand in front of the grey door labeled 'roof', my pain is forgotten.

I tighten my hand around the door's handle, and pull down, hearing the latch softly click out of place. Then I slip out into the cool, wispy midnight air.

Huge fans to my right make enough noise that I don't fear being caught, so I drop my guard, strolling towards the edge of the building.

I count the floors, and remember that I'm on level 26.

My breathing gets a little shaky as I inch towards the rail-less edge. I don't know what pushes me to keep moving forward, but my fists clench at my sides, and I keep moving forward.

About ten feet from the edge, I can see the ground.

About five feet, and I have to hold my breath.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I spin around, my foot catching on a loose brick. I tumble to my knees, heart racing. I feel the pain in my leg, but I know that adrenaline is subduing it at the moment. My eyes dart up to who was talking, and my heart stops.

"Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?"

"I... I…" I stutter.

"Well, Catnip?"

"Get away from me." I sit back on my butt, and scoot away from Gale, towards the edge of the building.

"Watch it! You're already full of holes. Wouldn't want you splattered on the ground, too." I stop moving away from him, realizing that I'm only three feet from the edge now. Every gust of wind threatens to throw me backward, off of the building.

"Go…" I growl.

"Can we talk?" Gale asks, taking a step towards me. I flinch as he extends a hand towards me, as if he was going to slap me instead of help me up.

I glare at him, ignoring his outstretched arm.

"Please, _please_ at least come away from the edge. You're worrying me." He pleads pathetically.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss, hearing the venom in my own voice.

"I came to see you. I heard you were hurt and-"

"Well, you saw me. Hope you had a nice trip from Two. Bye-bye now."

"Catnip…"

"Don't call me that."

"Fine. _Katniss_. I came to apologize for what I did to you before. It was completely uncalled for and immature. I don't want to lose you as my best friend."

"Too late." I spit.

Gale sighs, and takes two steps backwards, "I'm serious about getting away from the edge. You're going to fall."

"So what if I do?" I try to stand, but I end up collapsing back to the roof after my leg gives out underneath me.

"Katniss!" Gale lunges forward to help me, but I bat his hands away. Every time I touch him, my heart threatens to burst. "Oh my God! I knew you were hurt, but… How did you even get up here?" He attempts to hook his arms underneath me.

"Get off of me!" I scream, louder than I had since the Games. My voice echoes off of the Capitol buildings.

Gale backs away, giving up on any attempt to help.

I scramble up on one foot, gripping the nearest thing for support. I feel hot tears burning in my eyes.

"Katniss… I'm…" Gale is cut off as the door from the stairwell slams open, and Peeta rushes out.

"Katniss! What-" he stop mid-sentence, seeing Gale. Fury burns in his eyes, scaring the crap out of me. He screams a few profane words, and his fist connects with Gale's head.

Gale falls into the wall behind him, both hands covering his now bloodied face.

Peeta rushes over to me, and scoops me up into his arms.

"Shhh… It'll be okay, honey." He whispers as I sob into his shirt.

My mother is the next to emerge from the door, eyes wide.

"Katniss! What are you doing up here?" she asks frantically. Her eyes fall on Gale as well, and she gasps, rushing over to him. After a quick examination of his face, she glares up at Peeta. "You broke his nose!"

"He hurt her!" Peeta yells back at my Mom.

"No, I didn't!" Gale looks at me to see if I would help his case.

Instead I give him a cold stare, tears blurring my vision.

"Why are you even here?" Peeta spits at Gale, hugging me tightly.

"I invited him!"

Says my mother.

**((A/N Keep readin' guys :) Lots to come! I gotta give some credit to **shloh** who helped me come up with part of this chapter, and the next one! If anyone has any ideas, I'll be sure to look them over and see if I can fit them into the plot :) I have over 17,000 views! I'm amazed! But let's make it more! Go tell your friends to read and review my story :) the more the merrier!))**


	16. Chapter 16

**((A/N Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. This week is _hectic_. So I will update as soon as I can! Oh, and I apologize for the length of this chapter. A much better one is coming. Promise!))**

"Why?" I sit, my legs propped up on another chair. My arms are crossed tight over my chest, and my eyebrow is raised.

"Why what?" My mother asks, clearly perturbed with me.

"Gale! Obviously!" I grit my teeth to keep from snapping.

"He called me about a week ago, and we had a nice conversation, and when he found out you were coming here, I invited him to see you. I didn't know what was going on between you two!"

"Yeah. Because Peeta probably didn't tell you what happened when I got that concussion. Right?" I bite sarcastically.

"Why does everything with you revolve around Peeta all of the sudden?" my mother mimics my position, which kind of pisses me off.

"If you hadn't noticed, he's kind of the only one who cares about me anymore." I hear how sorry I sound for myself, and add "Plus, we're together."

"Katniss, you know that's not true. I'm your mother; I care. Greasy Sae wouldn't take care of you if she didn't love you. Gale cares, or else he wouldn't be here."

"He doesn't care, Mom. And if he does, it's not the way I want to be cared for."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she sounds offended, but I couldn't guess why.

"Peeta actually loves me. He loves who I am, no matter who I am."

"Again with Peeta." My mother snorts, and I fight back the urge to storm out of the room. The main reason I don't is because my leg is virtually immobile.

"Again with the criticism! Before you somehow sprouted feelings, you didn't notice! I went thirteen years without you noticing, and did just fine!" My voice raises a notch.

"Katniss Everdeen, whether I was mentally present or not, I am still your mother!"

"Didn't seem like it. In fact, it doesn't really feel like it now." Whatever respect I still have for my mother is dangling by a metaphorical thread.

My mother sighs, "Honey, I just want what's best for you."

"Then you should've raised me to be submissive. But you didn't raise me at all."

"Katniss…" she presses her palms to her temples, and her eyes close for a moment.

"Maybe I should just go."

"We can talk later then?"

"No. I meant go. Back to Twelve."

My mother looks up, "So you're leaving your leaving your mother to be with some boy?"

"He's not 'some boy'."

My mother looks at me sharply, "Are you expecting this to last forever? You and him?"

Her question catches me off guard, and my voice gets caught in my throat.

Thankfully, she continues before I look like a complete idiot, "Because if you are, than this is your last chance. And if you're not… Don't mess around with your feelings."

"My last chance?"

"Your last chance to choose someone else. Who's closer. So you can be with your family and friends."

"Gale?" I feel the horror pass over my face, "You came here to talk me into choosing Gale?"

"I just want what's best-"

"No, Mom! Stop! This isn't even funny. I chose a year ago! You just told me not to mess around with my feelings, and now you're trying to manipulate me? I was right. I should go back."

"I didn't-"

"Tomorrow. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Please don't-"

"With someone who actually understands."

She doesn't say anything. Instead, she looks down at the ground, takes a deep breath, stands, and walks out the door, closing it behind her.

I let out a frustrated scream, and grab my hair into fists. I feel hot tears burning in my eyes, then drip down my cheeks.

I balance on one leg, hopping over to the dresser and throwing the drawers open a little too forcefully. One of them snaps right out into my hands, and I throw it over my head in anger.

"Whoa!" I turn to find Peeta standing behind me, the broken drawer in his arms. He'd caught it, right before it hit him in the head. "Um… Are you alright?"

"No!" I choke, turning back to the drawers and pulling out my clothing.

"What's wrong?"

I hop over to the corner where my suitcase is, and begin to throw clothes into it.

"Katniss. What's wrong?" Peeta comes up behind me, and sets his hand on my shoulder. I shake it off angrily, but then turn and plunge into his arms.

"Mymomthinksthatwe'''… andmyleghurts." I sputter.

"You're going to have to repeat that later, darling." He wipes my tears from my cheek with my thumb, and gives me a weak smile, "Aren't you suppose to not stand up?"

"I don't care." I grumble, untangling myself from him and continuing to pack.

"I know you don't. But I do." He reaches down and grabs my waist, pulling me back onto his lap as he plops down on the bed.

"I have to pack." I struggle to get away from him, but he has a tight grip around me.

"Where are you going?"

"We. We're going back to Twelve." I say confidently.

He gives me a nod without question.


	17. Chapter 17

His nose is an array of colors, ranging from flesh pink to royal purple to seaweed green. It looks slightly crooked, but the swelling makes it hard the tell.

"I'm not going to apologize." I snap at him.

"I don't want you to apologize." Gale glares pointedly at Peeta.

"I'm s-"

"No." I stop Peeta mid-word, "Don't say you're sorry unless you really are. Unless you'd take back what you did."

Peeta opens his mouth as if to speak, but it snaps shut after no sound comes out.

"See, Gale? We're not sorry. Neither of us. Now get out of my way."

"If you're not sorry now, Katniss, you will be soon." His eyes don't leave Peeta, even though he's speaking to me.

"Is that a threat?" Peeta tightens the arm that's wrapped around my waist, there for both physical and emotional stability.

"Not at all. It's a warning." I see Gale's jaw tighten, "I would never hurt Katniss purposefully."

Rage bubbles inside me. "You filthy liar! You're obviously trying to hurt me, or else you would've meant it last time you said goodbye. It's like ripping open a half-healed wound. It doesn't help, it hurts! You're not my best friend anymore, Gale! I don't know who you are! All the war crap, and the battle junk… it all went to your head."

"I'm the same person! Maybe it's you who's changed. I don't want Katniss, I want Catnip, and if she's not here, than I don't know why I even bother."

"I haven't changed. You're the one who's a completely different person."

"You know that's not true, Katniss. You haven't been the same since the first games you went into. I expected you to come out of that living, the same person you were before. I didn't expect him to come out." He jabs his finger into Peeta's chest, but Peeta doesn't react. "And to tell you the truth, I didn't want him to! But Katniss, I think you died in that arena like all the other tributes. You may still look the same, but you're not who you were."

I'm done with crying, so instead I bite my tongue until I taste blood.

"I don't even know why I try anymore." Gale shakes his head.

"I don't know why either." I hiss, wiping the blood from my lips.

"No. I actually _do_ know why." I don't ask, so he continues without my consent, "I fought because I was in love with Catnip. _My_ Catnip. I fought because I thought maybe she was still in there somewhere. But when I kissed you…" I feel Peeta tense beside me, "I knew it wasn't her anymore. I decided to come back when you got hurt. To attempt to revive her. But it's obvious she's gone."

"You're right." I say, "She is."

"Too bad I never got to say goodbye." Gale chews on his lower lip during the silence that follows. Then he turns to leave.

I don't know why I do it, but I reach out and grab his hand.

Peeta releases me as I fall into Gale's arms, hugging as tightly as my strength will allow. I hear his uneven breathing, and know that he's crying. My heart hurts in my chest as I let him go.

"Bye." I whisper, my voice weak.

"Bye, beautiful." He turns his gaze to Peeta, and I'm expecting them to get in another fight, but instead Gale says, "Take care of her for me."

Peeta nods, "Swear."

Gale gives both of us a weak smile, which is warped from his multi-colored face, and then steps to the side, allowing both Peeta and I to enter the elevator.

Peeta doesn't offer to hug me, or kiss me, or console me at all. But I'm okay with it, because I don't want to be hugged or kissed or consoled. Instead, he helps me in, and then leans against the side of the elevator.

The ride down seems much shorter than the ride up was, and before I know it, we're boarding the train home.

It takes me a few hours to regain my voice, and when I do, I hobble down the cars of the train, with the help of a crutch.

My brain is still fuzzy, and I'm having trouble concentrating on anything at all, but eventually I find the open-air car where Peeta and I had talked on the way to the Capitol.

He's sitting right where I'd left him when we'd boarded the train.

"Hi." I say, my voice scratchy from not being used in a while.

"Hey." He takes a deep breath.

"How are you?" I ask, plopping down next to him. His eyes are red and puffy, and I know he's been crying.

"It depends."

"On?"

"How you are."

"Oh." I clear my throat, "I'm glad it's back to just the two of us."

"Really?" he glances up at me for the first time.

"Really." I say, reaching over and squeezing his knee.

"Katniss…" he gives a short, sarcastic laugh.

"What?"

"Do you _really_ love me? Like… No. I know you do. But I mean… Why would you leave your family and friends for me?"

"You love me." I say slowly.

"Always will."

"There." I say matter-of-factly, "That's why. You always will love me. Not like anyone else."

"So, you love me because I love you?"

"I love you for so much more than that, Peeta. But you know how I am with words… I'm not skilled like you are. I'm sorry if I don't show it as much, or tell you as often. It's just difficult for me." I take a deep breath, "But I do. I love you more than… well, anything really."

Peeta chuckles, "Okay. Well then, can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure." I smile comfortingly, thinking he'll ask why it's so hard for me to function emotionally or something like that. But instead he says,

"Katniss Everdeen. Will you marry me?"

**((A/N AHHHH! I was the one writing it, and it STILL caught me off guard! How do you guys like_ that_? Review Review Review! :)))**


	18. Chapter 18

I finally understand why people sue the term 'getting the wind knocked out of me', even if it's not literal. Because I literally lose all ability to speak.

"I…I…" I sound like a retarded seal.

Peeta chuckles. He takes my hand in his, and bends down on one knee.

The only thing keeping me conscious is shock. Don't ask me how that works.

"Katniss. More than once in my life, you've been my only reason to live. I wouldn't be alive without you. I owe you my life. I know we're extremely young, and probably not the most compatible couple, but from my point of view, you're perfection at its best. And I would do anything to make you happy. I love you."

"I love you." I reply, choking on my own breathing.

"It's a yes or no question." He laughs.

A million things are running through my mind as I try and form a word.

I laugh hysterically for a minute or two.

"You're worrying me."

"Yes!"

"Yes! You're worrying me!"

"No! Yes!" I throw my arms around him, forgetting my crutch.

"Wait…" He grabs me before I have time to collapse, "Clarify, please."

"I mean yes. I will marry you." The words sounds alien, coming from my lips. I'd never thought I'd say them before I turned thirty, but here I am, 18 and engaged.

I don't have time to see Peeta's reaction, but I'm quickly caught up in a kiss that is so different than one we've ever shared before that it gives me a whole new feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"This is crazy you know." I can't wipe the grin off my face.

"What is?" He seems to have the same problem, his gorgeous lips turned upward.

"This whole thing. I don't even know how to react. You know?"

"I do know. But that's the joy of it. For once, we don't have to worry about reactions."

"I sure hope not. Because there are a few people that would literally kill me." I laugh once.

"Don't worry about them."

"I won't."

Peeta smiles. "You know. I've thought about this for pretty much my entire life."

"Thought about what?"

"You and I. I have to apologize for the way I asked. I always pictured something more than just kneeling down on a train. I should've at least had flowers. I'm sorry. I just couldn't stand it, sitting here talking to you about love and not knowing…" He smiles sheepishly.

"Don't apologize. I don't even like flowers." I reassure, "You couldn't have done any better."

"Our wedding will make up for it." Peeta grins, pulling my waist to his.

_Our wedding_, I think to myself. _A real wedding. Not some fake, over-the-top, Capitol-planned wedding._

Just the thought sends shivers down my spine, electricity all the way to my fingertips.

I'm amazed with myself for having the courage to say yes. It shows me how much I really love Peeta.

Before the Games, I'd always assumed I'd marry Gale, just because we could support each other.

I never thought I'd be able to marry out of love.

I never thought I'd marry the boy I was sent into an arena to kill.

I never thought I'd marry someone my mother didn't approve of.

"You alright?" Peeta asks, shaking me from my thoughts. I realize that I haven't responded to him bring up the wedding.

"Yeah. Just a lot to think about." I lean into him, pressing my lips to his. I'm instantly comforted.

"I honestly don't know whether I'm dreaming or not." Peeta chuckles, his forehead pressed to mine.

"Want me to pinch you?" I giggle, which is so unlike myself.

"Nope. If this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up."

"That is _so_ cheesy."

"Hey. I can't always be Mr. Mature."

The next few hours are a jumble of kisses, giggles, and flirtatious remarks, most of which I don't even remember by the time I'm cuddled up next to Peeta in my room, tucked under the covers.

His arm is draped over me, and I burrow myself backward into his chest, trying not to wake him up.

It's way past midnight, probably about two o'clock, but my mind has been running constantly, never giving me a chance to drift off into sleep. Instead I let my mind wander, breathing in deeply.

Peeta smells like warm bread and cinnamon.

A smile spreads across my face as his fingers twitch near my stomach, telling me he's dreaming.

Peeta hadn't slept in my bed for six months after we returned home from the Capitol and District Thirteen. He'd been afraid that he'd have another attack, and hurt me.

I remember the dream that had finally caused him to rock me back to sleep, and stay the night for the first time in what felt like forever.

I was in a crowd of people, thousands of people, but none of their faces were visible behind black scarves. It was cold and snowing, and I remember my toes going numb.

All of the sudden, I'm consumed by the dream, no longer in the arms of my fiancée.

_I hear Prim scream, and my blood runs colder than the ice covered roads. I break into a run towards the spot where her scream originates. I run for what feels like miles, but don't find her._

_ Another one of her screams fills the air, back in the direction of which I came, and I sprint back to the same spot, bumping into numerous people as I make my way through the crowd._

_ I smell it before I see it._

_ Roses and blood._

_ I gag, but attempt to ignore my reflexes, charging towards the sound of Prim's screams. And then I find her, lying on the ground._

_ I have to turn around and throw up when what I'm seeing registers._

_ Primrose, my little sister, is lying in a thick pool of blood. She's facedown, legs bent in directions legs don't bend, arms stretched above her head as if she were reaching for someone before being smacked to the ground._

_ I look up, tears blurring my vision, and scream for help from someone, anyone. The strangers stop abruptly at my screaming, and one by one pull down the scarves, revealing their faces._

_ Each and every one is President Snow, grinning at me viciously._

_ "Thought you could get rid of me that easily, did you?"_

**_(_(A/N BUMBUMBUUUUM! I decided I didn't want this entire chapter to be all fluff, so I added that end part and am going to play off it later on :) I hope you guys are liking this so far. And I love when ya'll review :)))**


	19. Chapter 19

I usually wake up screaming.

So it's slightly alarming when I ease out of the dream without any spasmodic movements.

I take a deep breath, feeling myself shudder.

Peeta is still beside me, but he's shifted so that he's facing away from me, facedown into the pillow. He doesn't wake up as I sit up, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I realize that my cheeks are wet, and find myself crying subconsciously.

Careful not to wake Peeta, I slide out from under the covers and make my way downstairs.

I pour myself a glass of water and take a sip, trying to calm my racing heart down. I decide fresh air would do me some good, and go out on the front porch, sitting in a woven chair made of branches.

The sky is pitch black, starless. The moon hides behind a thick onyx cloud.

It's a little unnerving, sitting in nothingness. I can't see anything, and the only sound is a soft wind running through the nearby woods.

A shiver runs up my spine, and goose bumps rise on my skin.

I get that paranoia that I'm being watched, but brush it off, considering it is three o-clock in the morning in a barely-populated District.

I breath in, the cool air filling my lungs only causing me to shiver more.

I sit quietly for a few minutes, leaning my head back against the wall, letting my eyes drift shut.

A breeze drifts across my face, my hair fluttering to my side.

Something touches my arm, and I panic, my fists flying out in front of me. They connect with nothing, and it takes me a minute to slow my heart rate.

I don't identify what touched me, but I deduct that it was a bug flying off course, and that I'm going crazy. Which could be very much possible.

I don't let my eyes shut again, just in case, but it does me no good to keep them open, because they refuse to adjust. I stare straight ahead, into inkiness, my muscles tensed.

I refuse to move for about ten minutes, and then realize I'm doing no good staying out here.

I stand, the creaking the chair makes painfully loud, and grasp the cold door handle, pushing into the house.

The moment the door opens, there's the sound of something dropping in the kitchen, directly around the corner from where I stand.

The lights are still off, so I assume it's not Peeta.

My blood runs cold, and I make a quick decision, shutting the door behind me with such grace that it's silent, and dropping to my knees, making my way behind the couch.

Shuffling sounds come from the kitchen, and I make an effort to breathe through my open mouth.

Somewhere in the midst of all of my jumbled, frantic thoughts, I find myself wishing Peeta was kneeling next to me, his warm body radiating calm.

But it's just me.

I flinch as a whisper comes from the direction of the kitchen, and am baffled when another answers. How could two people break into our house, with me sitting right on the porch?

I feel queasy as I remember that something touched me. Was it one of them?

I almost scream for Peeta, but I realize he probably wouldn't make it down here in time. I wouldn't want him getting hurt anyways.

My eyes shift over to the fireplace, and I immediately take notice of the fire poker.

I used to play with them as a kid, pretending to use it as a sword. Looks like that would be practice for now.

I shift over towards the fireplace, trying not to make noise.

I'm about halfway there when my knee hits something sharp. I suck in a sharp breath, and then freeze, realizing I've made an adequate amount of audible noise. I hold my breath, blood pounding in my ears as I try and listen for a sign of the intruders hearing me.

It's silent, but I keep frozen just in case.

When my lungs are about to burst, I risk letting a stream of air through my lips.

"She's here." A voice whispers in my ear, and I fly forward, away from the speaker. I slam full force into a slab of human, which is another man who looks like he's been pumping iron since he popped out of his mother.

I scream as loudly as I can, wrenching my elbow back into the man's gut. He doesn't double over like I hope, but instead grabs my arm and twists it behind me. I let out another scream, hearing a pop as my shoulder dislocates.

Pain shoots up through my body, and I grimace, yanking myself away from the man. I lunge towards the poker, and elation spreads through me as I grip the cold metal.

My victory is short lived, however, as I roll and see the smaller man crouching over me. I swing the bar at his head, but he ducks, revealing his quickness.

I scramble to my feet, assessing my attackers.

They seem to do the same to me, and I take it to my advantage, swinging the poker as swiftly as I can over my head and into the temple of the big guy.

He immediately falls to the ground.

I bring the heavy metal down on his back for good measure, and then turn to the smaller man. But where he was before, he isn't there anymore, and I immediately feel pressure on my neck.

Fingers close around my throat, and I feel every single ounce of pressure.

I choke, losing air fast.

But then he's off of me, and I find myself staggering to keep from dropping to the ground, dead like my victim.

I trip over my own foot, but before I can face plant, someone catches me.

"I'm so sorry." Peeta hugs me close, and I see that he's smashed a heavy ceramic vase over my assailant.

"I'm fine." I squirm away from him, his squeezes causing my shoulder to scream in pain.

"What's-"

"Dislocated shoulder. That's it. I'm fine." I bite, knowing how harsh I sound. I feel guilt swell up inside of me for being so hostile. "Sorry…"

"Don't be sorry. Here." He takes hold of my arm and I wince, bracing myself against the wall. I bite down on my lip as he shoves with all his might, and I taste blood as I manage to keep from screaming. There's another pop, and my shoulder is once more in the correct socket.

"Thanks." I take a deep breath, looking down at the men on my living room floor. "Why do you think they were here?"

Peeta looks down at me, eyebrows knit together, bottom lip being chewed. He takes a deep breath, "I'm guessing it's because of me."

I open my mouth to say something, but I don't know what, so I end up closing it silently.

"Again." He mutters.

**((A/N I apologize profusely for the length of time it's been taking me to update. I'll try to update sooner, but the end of this year is hectic. I literally spend thirty minutes on these chapters, so I'm sorry if they're not what you're expecting or anything... But please, now that I'm done ranting... keep reading and reviewing :) You guys are awesome!))**


	20. Chapter 20

I feel like I've fallen twenty feet into a pit of nails, crawled my way out, and dragged myself forty miles home.

Of course, I haven't. But that's what it feels like.

I yank my brush through my hair, tearing out numerous knots carelessly. I braid it back, and then splash cold water on my face, adding a few slaps for good measure.

I look up into the mirror and grimace.

My lips are cracked, purple bags are forming under my eyes, and I look as splotchy as I had when they'd stripped my first layers of skin off, after the Quarter Quell.

I groan, letting my head roll back across my shoulders.

Four nights now, I haven't been able to sleep.

Between nightmares, headaches, queasiness, and just plain paranoia, I have gotten a total of maybe thirty minutes of sleep within the last four days.

I wipe a towel across my face, taking a deep breath.

Nightmares I'm used to. Headaches aren't abnormal. Queasiness… well, I just got engaged for goodness sake. But the paranoia is from what Peeta explained to me.

"The Capitol-natives are very enthusiastic. Not all of them support the spread of their personal wealth. They'll blame it on you and I, Katniss, for doing what we did. When I was in the Capitol…" He'd stopped to take a deep, shaky breath, "When I was there, they did everything they could to strip me of my dignity. Now that we've done the same to them, but on a completely different level, they'll want revenge again. They can't take more from us than what we've already taken from them, except for our lives. So, that's what they're after. They want us dead, just because they lost the ability to bathe in dollar bills."

His words still bounce around in my skull, as they have for days.

I throw on some clothes, and then trot down the steps, popping a few pills for my pain. They're supposed to make me drowsy as well, but I can't sleep without waking up in a cold sweat.

Peeta had closed down the bakery for a while, in honor of Jimmy Wright, the boy who'd been killed. Instead, I make my way across the Victor's Village to his house.

I knock on the door, and stand there waiting for a few minutes. As I raise my arm to knock again, the door swings open.

Peeta's hair is dripping, and he's uncovered except for a white towel wrapped around his waist. I feel myself salivate, and raise an eyebrow, "You could have put clothes on before answering the door."

"I thought you'd like it." He teases.

"And what if it wasn't me?"

"Well, I think Greasy Sae would like it too."

"Hardeehar." I say sarcastically.

Peeta grins, grabbing my arms and pinning me to his chest, a forced embrace.

I won't lie. The feel of his warm, bare chest is pretty freaking awesome. And the fact that he's wearing only a towel…

He releases me, gives me a dazzling smile, and then jumps up the steps, two at a time.

I close the front door behind me, and turn to exploring his house. I don't get in here too often, since Peeta's always at my house.

It's not difficult to find my way around, considering his house is almost identical to mine, not counting furniture. Although his house is a lot cleaner.

The double doors that usually lead to my study, however, are propped open. Instead of having a library, Peeta has a bright room, full of paintings on easels, and tarps scattered all over the floor.

I weave my way through the maze of artwork, amazed at how much free time he makes for himself.

Most of the paintings I've already seen, like the one that he'd revealed at the last interview.

But there's one near the far corner that I've never seen before.

It looks like it's in progress, not yet finished, but still, it leaves me awestruck.

My jaw drops as I make my way over to the canvas, and I find myself reaching out and running over the swoops of color.

The white of the dress mixes with light gray shadows, the dark hair falls in perfect waves, and the sun is perfectly reflected off the blue-green ocean.

Peeta has painted our wedding.

"I know it's not going to be exactly like that, but that's how I dreamed…" His voice comes from behind me and my heart skips a beat, but I don't jump.

He wraps his arms around my waist from behind, setting his chin on my shoulder.

"You fully clothed now?" I smile as he presses his lips to my jaw.

"Don't sound so depressed." He jokes.

"This is beautiful." I say, my eyes still absorbing his work.

"It's not finished yet."

"I don't care. It's amazing now, it's amazing when it's finished."

"You're too kind." He untangles himself from me, and takes my hand, leading me to another easel. This one has a canvas over it, covering the painting underneath.

"What's this?" I ask, reaching out to remove the covering. Peeta gently grabs my wrist before I can take it off.

"Katniss, what do you want to do?" His eyes are intense.

"What do you mean?"

"Once we get married, what do you want to do with our lives?"

"I want to be with you until I die." I say simply, but the warmth in my stomach threatens to splay a smile on my face.

"I mean… Are we just going to move into the same house, and keep living our lives the way we have been?" he asks, and I begin to understand what he's asking.

"Oh." I mutter, my eyes trailing to the ceiling. I hadn't thought of anything after our marriage.

"I want our lives to change completely." He whispers.

I can't help but lean into him and press my mouth to his, and he reacts immediately, hands coming up to cup my face.

"Okay. Maybe not completely change." Peeta chuckles, "But pretty much."

The phone rings somewhere back inside his living room, and he presses his lips to mine once more and then hurries to answer it.

I turn towards the covered painting, curiosity killing me.

Peeta never said not to look…

I hear him answer the phone, pretty far down the hallway.

I take the edge of the canvas between my fingers, fighting with myself in my head over whether I should wait or not.

Before I can even think, I've already made up my mind. I don't know how that works.

I pull the sheet off the artwork, and suck in a sharp breath.

Two gorgeous little children are painted on the canvas, running through a field, huge grins on their faces. The little boy looks slightly younger than the girl.

My heart begins to beat faster as I notice the coloring of the children, the light blue eyes, the dark curly hair…

And then it clicks.

Peeta has turned his dream of our children into a painting.

_"KIDS?"_ I find myself shriek.

**((A/N You guys are probably getting sick of my author's notes full of apologies. So, I'll just say that I'm sorry for the wait :) This weekend was Prom and all that junk. But Soccer season ends Friday, so I'll be able to write more! HOORAY! :D So, are you guys still liking this story? It's getting pretty long, and I honestly don't know whether to keep it going for awhile longer, or what... So please Review and tell me what ya'll think! Thanks!))**


	21. Chapter 21

"We should've had this conversation earlier." Peeta runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. He sits across from me, his chair facing mine. It's awkward, how we're sitting, since I've familiarized myself with his constant embrace.

"We should've." I agree plainly.

Silence permeates the room, the slow ticking of the clock seeming to echo.

"This is ridiculous. We're both adults. We should be able to figure this out." I cross my arms tight over my chest, a defensive signal for him to cave first.

"I should think so." There's a slight hostility in his voice, but it's not misplaced considering my own attitude. "So tell me. Why not?"

"It's completely out of the question."

"I want a reason."

"I've never thought about it."

"Well, you're thinking about it now. So give me a reason when you finally stop making excuses." His voice is sharp, and it cuts through me, but I refuse to let him see that. It pisses me off that he's so passionate about this that he's starting a fight.

"At least I have an excuse! What's yours? That you _want_ them? Is that it?"

"Katniss, this is all I've lived for!"

"You said you were living for me. Now it sounds like our imaginary, fictional children are all that you care about." My face burns, and tears threaten to well up in my eyes, but I manage to ensure my composure for the time-being. I realize that I'm gripping the arm rests so tightly my knuckles turn white.

"You know that's not true." His harsh tone disappears, and his eyes make a quick transition from intense to sympathetic.

He's right. I know that what I said is a lie. But I can't admit it out loud.

"I care about you more than anything else in my life. I always will." He leans forward as if he's going to stand up and take me into his arms. Instead, he presses his palms to his temples.

"I know." I squeak. I feel sick to my stomach, so I clutch my arms around myself.

"I'm sorry." Peeta reaches out and attempts to take my hand in his, but I don't give it to him.

"You want a reason?" I say, letting one tear make its way down my cheek.

He doesn't answer, but tries to meet my eyes.

"It's not because of you. It's not because of them." My breathing is shaky, "It's because I'm afraid that I'll do something wrong. I'm not a caring person like a mother should be. I don't want to be… I don't want my kids to be like me. I don't know how, and I'm just not… prepared." I ramble.

"You're afraid that_ you'll_ fail?" Peeta is back to his worrying, selfless personality.

I nod, wiping my eyes and refusing to cry more. With all the crying I've done in the past couple weeks, I should be less hydrated than a desert.

"I'm sorry you think that. You'd be a pretty awesome mother, in my opinion."

I snort, "Well neither of us really knows what an 'awesome mother' is." And it's true. My mother was a brainless zombie for the majority of my life, and Peeta's mother was an abusive perfectionist. It's a miracle that we both turned out mentally stable… for the most part.

"Come here." He opens his arms, and I plow into him, the force sending the chair backwards.

I roll off of Peeta as soon as we hit the ground, hoping not to hurt him. Instead, he cracks into uncontrollable laughter, neither getting up or moving at all. "That's not what I meant by 'come here'."

I can't help but smile at him. Whatever I felt mad at him for vanishes as I watch him laugh, lying on his back.

"You're extremely attractive." I sit back on my rear.

Peeta finally stops laughing, but a grin is still plastered on his face as he pushes himself up to sit next to me. "Well thanks. You're pretty gorgeous yourself."

"I guess our mothers _were_ good for something then."

Peeta shrugs, "We both look more like our fathers."

Just the thought of my father turns my mood around. I sit, silent, and pretend to play with the tip of my braid.

"I'm sorry…" Peeta starts to reach out for me.

"No. Don't be." I smile reassuringly. I can't let Peeta comfort me over my family anymore, now that he's lost all of his as well.

He nods, lips tight, and pulls me next to him. His left arm pulls me close while his right hand plays with my fingers. It's always been a favorite thing of mine, to have him mess with my hands or hair.

The quiet and the calm start to affect me, and I'm reminded of my lack of sleep. I feel my eyelids getting heavier, and I lean into Peeta's chest for support.

I fall asleep as soon as my head touches his shoulder.

I sit on the beach, legs crossed, looking out over the glistening blue water. There's absolutely no breeze, everything perfectly still, but it's just the right temperature.

_My eyes are fixed on something on the horizon line of the ocean, a small speck in the distance. I try to turn my head to see if there's anyone else here with me, but my neck refuses to move._

_ I'm frozen, my head not in my control. My eyes won't even budge from the dot on the horizon. I can't force myself to blink._

_ A panic wells up inside of me. I know it's a dream, but I feel vulnerable, and helpless. I try to shake myself awake, but nothing I attempt to do actually works._

_ Instead, I'm stuck staring at an unimportant blob in the distance._

_ Or the not-so-distance._

_ The speck seems to be moving towards the beach, rapidly. What was once a small nothing is now the size of a pea, slowly growing larger. I attempt a scream, but my jaw doesn't move._

_ Instead of trying to move and failing numerous times, I decide to focus on the thing that is progressing towards me._

_ It's now close enough that I can recognize what it is, and I suck in a sharp breath. It's a huge barge._

_ I've never seen a boat before in real life, only heard about them in school, but I can easily identify it. It's like a floating train._

_ And it's coming right at me._

_ My vocal chords seem to have frozen, because I can't make any noises._

_ There's the sound of a large, blaring horn, probably from the ship. As if it wants me to move._

_ It's so close now, that I can read white letters scrawled on the side of the bow._

_ My breath catches in my throat._

_ The S.S. Primrose is aimed directly for me._

_ And the white-bearded captain that stands at the edge of the deck gives me a malicious grin._

I awaken as the boat plows into me, sending my body sprawling through the air towards… Peeta's bedroom floor.

Sheets are literally wrapped around my body, mummifying me in my panicked state. I thrash around, ripping the blankets off of me, craving the feeling of movement for my body.

My breathing is heavy and uneven, but when I find my feet I'm able to calm myself.

"Katniss?" Peeta calls questioningly from downstairs.

"Sorry. Fell off the bed." I yell back, feeling like an idiot.

"That's okay, honey. Could you… uh… Come down here for a second?" it sounds like something's wrong, so I throw myself out of his bedroom door and down the steps in a panic, still in a hyper state from my dream.

I find Peeta standing in the middle of the living room in only boxers, surrounded by about a dozen camera crew people, all lenses on him. He turns to smile at me sheepishly, eyes wide.

Caesar Flickerman turns from admiring a picture on the wall to greet me, awake as can be for it being seven AM. "Good morning Ms. Everdeen." He grins.

"Peeta?" I look over at him frantically, eyes wide.

He just shrugs, looking as dumbfounded as I am, "I… I came downstairs to make breakfast and…"

"Go get clothes on!" I find myself hissing at him under my breath.

"Uh…" Peeta raises an eyebrow, and looks me up and down, and my heart stops.

I look down, filled with horror, finding myself in my underwear as well.

"HOLY-" I sprint back up the steps, my face purple from embarrassment. I can hear Peeta behind me, broken from his stunned state.

"God, Peeta, you could've told me to put some freaking clothes on before calling me down there!" I lock the bedroom door behind us, almost positive the camera crew is following our every move.

"Well, why the hell don't you sleep with clothes on?" he laughs, but I can see the pink in his cheeks as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

I pull on a pair of sweats, and a blue V-neck, and take my hair out of its braid, "What do you think they want?" I whisper, knowing they're listening from outside the door. To make a point, I tip-toe over to the door, and send my fist into it as hard as I dare. It vibrates, and I hear a screech from the other side, knowing one of them had their ear to the door.

"Katniss. The last time they interviewed us we weren't a couple. Now we're…" he trails off, not using the word 'engaged' in fear that they might hear us.

"Now we're sleeping in our underwear in the same room." I nod in understanding. "This is great." Sarcasm drips from my words.

Peeta shrugs, walks over to the door, and puts his hand on the handle. "Ready?"

"Why do we have to let them in?" I whine, sitting back on the bed.

"What, you want to hide in here forever?"

"Why not?" I laugh, standing up and kissing his cheek. He cups my face in one of his hands and plants a kiss on my lips, and then turns the knob on the door.

The camera crew floods into Peeta's room, getting a picture of us from every angle.

"Dear goodness!" I pull my knees to my chest, huddled against the bed's headboard.

"And we're live!" I hear one of the cameramen yell.

My jaw drops as Caesar turns to look straight into a camera, "Good morning Panem. I hope you all slept well last night, because you're going to want to be wide awake for this special!" He grins.

Peeta finds the spot next to me and whispers under his breath, "Play it like we're dating."

I nod in agreement, not wanting a publicity explosion to ruin our engagement.

"Today, we're going to be talking to Mr. Mellark, and Ms. Everdeen."

He pauses for effect, I'm guessing.

"Or should I say… the soon to be _MRS. MELLARK _ladies and gentleman!"

I choke on my own breath.

**((A/N I wrote a super-duper long chapter, because I made you guys wait so long. Thanks for your reviews :) I'll keep doing this fanfic for as long as it holds my interest, and it has for quite awhile already. Does anyone know if there's a limit to how many chapters you can have? ;) REVIEW! 3 :D))**


	22. Chapter 22

My parent's engagement lasted two and a half years. I always imagined mine would be long and simple as well, relaxing, or at least allowing me to take breaths in between trying on wedding dresses.

It's been a weeks since the whole of Panem was informed of our wedding, and in that week I've had maybe three whole meals, thirteen hours of sleep, and five thousand pounds of make-up experimented on my face and body.

I've also gotten forty-seven phone calls, thirty of which came from my mother.

"Suck in, please." One of my prep team members squeaks, and I suck in my stomach painfully tight as she tightens a corset.

"This isn't necessary." I say, my voice strained as I attempt to hold my breath.

"You'll be stunning." The girl says sheepishly, her voice almost inaudible. She's new on my prep team, and not as outgoing as the other members. She backs away to take a look at me, and I take the chance to soak in her appearance as well.

She's almost normal looking, for a Capitol-born. Her hair is dark brown, pulled into pigtails. She has freckles spotting her face, and her nose is slightly upturned. The only abnormal things about her are the teal extensions in her hair, and the tattoo of a bird running along her forearm.

"That's beautiful." I say, motioning towards her arm. She lifts it to take a look at it, and a smile spreads across her face, revealing slightly crooked teeth. She's not like the rest of my prep team.

"It's a dove." She says, blinking up at me.

"Dove?" I ask, the word foreign on my tongue.

"My momma said they were signs of peace back in the old days. She used to tell me stories." The girl's eyes stare out my window, seeing something that isn't there.

"I'm Katniss." I say gently.

The girl blinks, turning back to me. "I know who you are." She snorts, "Who doesn't know who you are?"

"I meant…" I stop, now knowing what I meant.

She snorts again, "I'm Lina."

"Nice to meet you."

"You too." She says casually, returning to her work. She undoes my corset, and I feel relief flood through me as I have the ability to breathe once more.

"Knock knock." Peeta's voice comes from outside my bedroom door.

I look at Lina for approval, but she just shrugs. "Come in."

"This is ridiculous." I grumble as Peeta strolls in, dressed normally. "Why do you get to have breaks?"

"I had to try on twenty-three tuxedos this morning." He says, his point made.

I let out a frustrated groan, "This is why I wanted it to be private."

"Well, we can blame your mother for that, can't we?"

"We can blame everything on my mother, considering it's all her fault." I snap.

"Calm down, Katniss. Just because it's not a traditional folky wedding doesn't mean you have to get all bent out of shape."

"I know." I sigh, flinching away as Lina comes at my hair with a smoldering hot tool used for who-knows-what.

"Sorry." She mutters quietly.

"Who's this?" Peeta motions towards Lina, who freezes in her work.

"Lina. She's the newest addition to my prep team." I smile up at her, but she's still frozen, staring at Peeta.

"Hi. I'm Peeta Mellark." He holds out his hand.

"I-I'm Lina Pruett." She doesn't shake his hand back, only gapes at him.

"Are you okay, Lina?" I ask.

"Excuse me." She drops the hot wand on the counter and brushes past me, towards the door. She bumps into Peeta, and apologizes profusely, turning bright red before finding her way down the stairs.

"What was that about?" Peeta chuckles quietly.

"I think my prep girl has a crush on my fiancée." I laugh, standing and melting into Peeta's hug, "Why do you have to be so attractive to everybody?"

Peeta shrugs, "Well, it kept us alive."

I decide not to argue anymore, and just hug him back for a while.

"So." Peeta pulls his head back to look me in the eye.

"So what?" I ask.

"Did they give you the date yet?" he asks quietly.

"No. Did they give it to you?" I ask, unbelieving.

"June 17th." He whispers, and I wonder if he's not supposed to know.

"The seventeenth is only two weeks away!" I calculate, blown away by how soon it is.

"I know. Apparently in the Capitol, you were only engaged for about three days before your wedding. They're trying to balance it out."

"How is that balanced at-"

"I'm so sorry." Lina sticks her head into the room, holding onto the doorframe, "I have to leave. I'll be back tomorrow. Family emergency."

"Okay, thanks for all your help!" I call after her. Then I turn to Peeta and whisper under my breath, "Thank goodness!"

"Aw, c'mon. She can't be that bad. I think she's kind of cute."

"It's not her, it's the constant overwhelming preparation." I let my shoulder drop.

"Hey, look at it this way. Two more weeks. Then we have the best day of our lives. And from then on, the Capitol will leave us alone! Until there's more big news…" he stops, but I can practically read his mind.

"The Capitol will never have a special that has anything to do with children." I grind my teeth together.

"Let's not get into this right now." Peeta takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Good idea." I cross my arms tight over my chest.

It's silent for a few minutes and then Peeta leans in close, wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulls me against him and whispers, "I love you."

I nuzzle my head into his chest and tell him I love him back.

"Always have." His voice sends shivers down my spine.

"Always will." I return, squeezing him tight.

**((A/N I know this chapter wasn't that long. Sorry! School gets out in two weeks, and then I can type to my heart's content :) Your reviews are a huge self-esteem booster. Thank ya'll so much :)))**


	23. Chapter 23

I take a deep breath, feeling myself shake in the ocean of a dress that hangs around me. Thankfully I have a small bouquet of flowers in my hands that I can squeeze the life out of, instead of having my literally vibrating hands by my sides as I make the long trek down the aisle.

My shoes scuff the ground, and I almost end up face-planting before I even get through the door. I cuss at my high heels, thankful for something to let my built up nerves vent a little.

"Ready?" someone behind me asks, and I can feel them fluffing of my veil. I think veils are a stupid idea, something the Capitol made up to just make your outfit bigger. But I've been forced to wear one, by numerous people.

"Uh…" I mumble unintelligently. Before I can explain to them that I'm not necessarily ready, and _will never_ be necessarily ready, I'm being urged through the now slowly opening door.

For the first few moments of walking, it seems like time has slowed down, making this walk agonizingly painful. The people lined up ahead of me are turned to see the gorgeous, overwhelmingly breathtaking bride. Too bad it's just me, stuck inside of a giant marshmallow-looking dress.

The rows and rows of people that stretch too far to my left and too far to my right also run back behind me. I begin to turn my neck to see how many people were invited to my wedding, but the person behind me hisses as if to keep my posture perfect, so I snap my neck forward again.

I don't know why I hadn't noticed Peeta until now, but finally I see him, and our eyes meet. He's grinning; whether it's glee from this special day, or humor from my outfit I can't tell.

I grip the stems of my flowers tighter, squeezing the very life out of them. I trickle of water from their stems drips from my knuckles into the layers of cloth around my waist.

It seems like I've been walking forever, but as I measure the distance, I realize I'm only halfway to the altar.

I can feel the burning of at least a thousand stares on my back as I make my way forward, and I'm itching inside to just turn around and see how many people came.

My nerves are racking my brain as I take the first step onto the stage. My throat feels constricted, my head is pounding, and more adrenaline pumps through my veins than when I was in the arena.

My mind feels fuzzy, and I don't realize I'm at my destination until Peeta takes my hands in his own. I look into his eyes, and everything, all my worry and nervousness, is wiped from my mind. He gives me a barely noticeable reassuring wink, and whispers, "Smile."

I realize I haven't smiled since I walked into the room.

Or more like a stadium.

As I flash the crowd a grin, I'm hit by the immensity of people.

Nearly ten thousand people are lined up as far as I can see, all brightly colored and clapping like maniacs. I feel like I felt when I was interviewed for the first time, my heart tightening in my chest, my stomach lurching inside itself.

Peeta's hand gives mine a squeeze, but I don't respond, still gaping at the people. It has to be at least one fourth of the entire city.

And the rest are watching from the comfort of their homes, I realize, taking notice of a camera pointed right at my face. I can't imagine how I look at the moment. Probably like I'm about to pee myself.

The priest behind us starts to speak, but his voice is muted from my mind. Someone in the crowd has caught my eye.

Unlike all the other guests, his clothes are black and casual. He's bald, with a long purplish scar running above one of his eyebrows. He's about thirty rows back, and he's huge, a hulk compared to the other Capitol-natives. He pushes his way through the crowd, causing loud 'shushes' and perturbed faces. Then he stops about halfway to the door, and bends down.

"Katniss Everdeen?" my gaze snaps from the man to the priest, who cocks his head at me in question, "Do you take Peeta Mellark to be your husband?"

"I do." I say, letting the words slip out of my mouth without overthinking anything. Whenever I think, things tend to go wrong.

"And do you take Katniss Everdeen to be your wife?" he turns to Peeta.

Peeta grins and squeezes my hands in his, "I do."

Everything after that moment rushes at me, too fast to really process anything.

The next thing I hear is violent screaming out in the audience. And then the screaming is cut short as four bombs in the audience explode, sending our wedding up in flames.

The force of the explosion sends me flying backward into the wall, but my dress takes most of the impact. However, it slows everything I do down, making the smallest task feel like it's impossible. I struggle to get to my feet, kicking off the heels.

In front of me, all I can see is smoke and fire. I can't hear anything but a thick ringing in my ears.

Soot covers my arms, sending up puffs of dirt as I rip off the skirt of my dress, leaving me in a bodice and a tight pair of spandex shorts I'd insisted on wearing under my dress, just so I didn't have to go commando.

I know I should be panicking, but all I feel is shock and pain in my right bicep, where I find a piece of glass lodged in a medium-sized cut. I pluck it out, speeding up the blood flow.

I blink, dazed. My hands stay at my sides, no longer shaking. Instead they're clenched into fists, my nails digging hard into my palms. I find comfort in the self-inflicted pain.

I feels arms wrap around me, and suddenly I'm being pulled backward, behind the stage and through winding hallways filled with blinding lights. I struggle to keep up with my captor's steps, but I stumble most of the way.

I blink away a few tears from the irritation the smoke caused in my eyes, and look up to see a District 13 soldier, determinedly holding me up.

He's talking, I can tell by the movements of his lips, but I can't hear him. The ringing in my ears has turned to flat line buzzing, and it's giving me a migraine.

Colorful lines swim in my vision, and I'm sucked into a kind vertigo that causes me to bend over a throw up before continuing down this seemingly never ending hallway.

We break into daylight, and the harsh lights fade behind us.

I begin to regain my hearing, the sound of shouts distant, almost as if they're back inside my skull.

"Katniss!" I hear someone scream, but I can't tell where it came from.

I'm led towards the train station, and hastily boarded into a car.

Confusion settles over me as I realize I'm not standing in a passenger car, but a transportation car for industrial trains.

A few chunks of rocks are stacked into corners, and there's none of the usual fluffy comfortable Capitol furniture, only a pile of hay in the middle of the rusty box.

As my shock wears away, I feel my heart flip in my chest.

_Peeta_.

I stick my head out of the train car, about to scream his name with all my might. But at the last minute I see him, also being held up by a soldier. He looks conscious enough, more aware than I am. His face is cut up in some places, and somewhere his tuxedo's jacket was lost, but he looks okay more or less.

About fifty feet away, I recognize the man who was in the audience. He's handcuffed, face pushed into the dirt, surrounded by guards with their guns trained on him. A few other people dressed like he is are in the same position, but my heart stops as my eyes fall on one.

She's the only girl. She has brown pigtails with blue highlights. Her teeth are small and crooked as her mouth splays a huge grin.

I gape at the girl who seems to be smug with her victory.

I gape at Lina.

I look away from her, horrified. Does she know how many innocent people she just killed?

I fight tears that form in my red, itchy eyes.

Peeta's led to the same train car I was loaded into, and as his eyes fall upon me his shoulders seem to sag, some of the weight lifted off them. He rushes into me, and wraps his arms tight around me.

"Peeta… What…?" I choke, tears finally finding their way down my cheeks. Talk about a late reaction.

Peeta puts his hands on my shoulders, and as I look at his face I'm overcome with a feeling of pure dread.

He's crying as well, small runs of tears washing streaks through the soot on his face. The sight of him like this make my heart shatter, and I sob into his chest, letting myself unravel in his arms.

"We're going to be okay." He says, his whisper quiet and shaky. "I swear."

**((A/N OKAY. DO NOT freak out because they didn't get married yet! I swear, it's coming up soon. So... how's that for a twist? :) Review puleeease :D))**


	24. Chapter 24

Out the window, I watch blurs of trees rush by, green smudges at the speed we're going, despite the fact that we're travelling a fraction of the speed we would on a Capitol train. If I had to guess, I'd say we're going about fifty miles an hour.

Peeta sits next to me, dead asleep.

I raise my head from his shoulder, taking a deep breath. I haven't been able to sleep since being shoved onto this train. I'd guess we've been in the car for at least 24 hours.

Twenty-five hours ago, my life was working out pretty well. Now it's crumbling around me, in a confusing heap of rubble.

My head hurts from the lack of sleep, food, and movement. I'm sure the sudden humidity amplifies the throbbing in my brain as well.

I'm itching to get up and go look out the window, to have some inkling of where we are, but Peeta is supporting his unconscious body on me.

Instead I let my head roll back against the wall, breathing deeply to calm myself down.

After we'd been put in this train car I'd gone into shock, and almost hyperventilated. Stress still weighs on me, even though I've gotten my sanity back.

But the moment my eyes shut, I see the fiery explosions again, the silently screaming people, the grin on Lina's face. I wince, my eyes opening back up again despite my exhaustion.

Lina had seemed like such an innocent girl, only fourteen years old. Seeing her in my mind now, looking like a twisted, demonic monster, makes me cringe. Monsters can't make you look beautiful. Demons don't have pigtails.

Yet the horrifying pleasure that had been displayed on her face after the attack hadn't been innocence. It had been the complete awareness of her helping in the slaughter of innocence.

"Hey." I jump, so deep in my thoughts that Peeta's quiet voice catches me off guard. He pulls back from me, avoiding my spasmodic reaction. "Geez."

"Sorry." I look away from him, hugging my arms around myself.

"It's okay. Are you alright?" his voice is slow, sluggish, as if he's still pulling himself from sleep.

I don't reply, the answer obvious.

"Katniss, I know that was a stupid question. I know you're not 'okay'. But I meant, are you... stable?"

"Mentally, Emotionally, or Physically?" I ask, looking up at him through my eyelashes, still caked with make-up.

"All of them?" he says.

"No, no, and no." I answer, biting the inside of my cheek. "How 'bout you?"

Peeta wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "I told you. We're going to be okay."

"We're going to be. Doesn't mean we are."

"Granted, but-"

"Peeta, your optimism is starting to get on my nerves." I growl.

"Katniss, your pessimism is making my optimism less efficient."

"Then why don't you look at things the way they really are? Our wedding just exploded, we're on a train to who-knows-where, we're hungry and thirsty, covered in blood and dirt, and thousands of people just died. How can you see anything good in that?" I raise my voice and pull out of his arms to look him straight in the eye. The jerkiness of my movements makes me dizzy and slightly nauseated.

Peeta looks at me, silent, for an entire minute. Then he answers, "We're on a train, heading _away _from threats. The soldiers are taking care of the people back there." His hand shoots up and points, although I doubt he knows which way the Capitol really is now. "We may be covered in blood and dirt, but we're _alive_, and _together_. And complaining about our circumstances does nothing but sink us deeper into our depression. Optimism is all I have right now, Katniss, and you're not taking that away from me."

His words sink in slowly at first, and my 'everything-is-going-wrong' attitude tries to find faults in his points. But I realize that he's right, as usual. I feel tears well up in my eyes, and my stomach clenches into a fist. I have no food in my stomach, but I have to run over to the window of the train to throw up bile and spit. Which only makes me cry harder.

I slide to the floor underneath the window, across the train car from Peeta, and put my throbbing head in my hands. I wish I had alcohol, but I doubt that would mix well with an empty stomach.

"I'm done fighting." I say between sobs, not lifting my head to look at him. "I'm done. I can't handle fighting with you."

My eyes squeeze shut, and I let myself cry harder than I have in a while.

After a few minutes I've calmed myself down enough to look up through blurry eyes. Peeta's staring at me, eyebrows knit together in worry. My eyes meet his, and I see his lip tremble slightly. I take a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. Then I find the strength to pull myself up and walk over to him, where I'm pulled tightly into a hug.

"I would kiss you." He mumbles, "But you just barfed everywhere."

"I'm sorry." I say back. He knows I'm not apologizing for throwing up.

We sit there quietly for a few minutes. Then I feel something on my bicep, directly below my shoulder, and lean away to look.

I haven't really taken count of my wounds since boarding this train, but the one on my arm seems to be the worst. It's begun bleeding again, re-opened by the strain of squeezing Peeta tightly.

I notice that I've left a stain of blood on Peeta's white shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's a nice addition." He sighs, looking down at the other blood stains that are turning a rust-brown.

I swallow, my throat constricted, and nod once. The trail of blood running down my arms is starting to pool at the tips of my fingers.

"We need to get something on that." Peeta grits his teeth, "Do I have anything that bad anywhere? I haven't been able to check."

I pull back to look him over, and end up running my thumb gently across a laceration over his left eyebrow, "This is the worst. Not too bad."

"Okay. So you're the first to get treated when we get to wherever we're going."

"I'm sure there are enough people there to treat us at the same time." I squeak, hoping my words are true. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed by the number of places we could be taken to. We could be dropped off in the middle of nowhere, by ourselves, forced to create new lives in the middle of the forest. Of course, that's my pessimism talking again.

"We'll see." Peeta chews on his bottom lip.

For about another hour we make small talk, considering where we could be going.

Then light streams through the windows, brighter than before, and I realize we're past the forest, out in the open now. I pull myself to my feet, and Peeta stands next to me as we make our way over to look out the window.

I suck in a sharp breath as the smell of salt and fish hits my nose, and my grip on the window gets tighter. Out the window is a wide expanse of nothing but sparkling blue-green water, stretching as far as I can see towards the horizon, where the sun is beginning to set.

I've never seen so much water in one place, not even at the Quarter Quell, and I feel Peeta's arms tighten around my waist, remembering.

We're hurled against the wall as the train comes to a sudden, jerky stop, and I slam into Peeta's chest, hearing his head hit the metal.

"Ouch." He mutters, rubbing the back of his head. He seems okay though, so after apologizing profusely, I give up on making him try to show me where it hit.

There's a screeching sound that makes my cringe and want to cover my ears, but it's over before I can react.

The door to the train car has been opened, a girl about my age standing there grinning.

"Welcome to District Four!" she announces.

**((A/N Surprised? Don't worry; next chapter will explain :) Review!))**


	25. Chapter 25

"Katniss Everdeen, 18, District 12, black hair, gray eyes, 5' 7"."

"Peeta Mellark, 18, District 12, blonde hair, blue eyes, 5' 11"."

"Good. And just for the hell of it, Reilly Stark, 17, District 4, brown hair, green eyes, 5' 5"." She grins, showing off her perfect white teeth.

I don't know how someone who's born to be a model can live out in the wilderness, but as she'd explained to us already, Reilly was born and raised in this small beach-side town as an orphan, along with her older brother, Eli.

The rough looking town looked like heaven when we'd first arrived, the smell of cooking fish sending my stomach growling. Now it just looks like a normal cluster of well-kept buildings, even though it's so much more than that.

The metal contraption that we'd just spoken into flashes erratically for a moment, and I almost suggest that Reilly have someone put up a warning to epileptics when the gate swings open with a few clicks.

"Follow me." She bats her eyes towards Peeta, and my grip tightens on his hand. He looks down at me with a knowing smile on his face.

We follow Reilly down what seems like five-hundred flights of steps. I'm beginning to worry that the ocean is above us, when I realize that I'm right. The dark, underground tunnel opens up into a large glass tube.

"Oh. My. Goodness." Peeta's hand nearly crushes mine, but I can't blame him.

Directly outside of the glass is the ocean floor, blue water stretching a quarter mile above us through the transparent shield. A large fish darts through the water to my left, and I flinch away from it instinctively.

"Isn't it beautiful? I would spend half of my life down here if I could." Reilly smiles, placing her hand against the glass where a stingray glides past.

"It's beautiful in a horrifying way." I feel like I'm being crushed under the weight of the ocean, "Please keep walking."

She lets out a laugh, and turns back to her trek down the tube, loading our brains with more information as we walk, "We call ourselves the Marines, which is a name we adopted from the army way-back-when. They were the toughest of the tough. We've been building this place since we learned of you, Katniss." She turns to look over her shoulder, giving me an icy glare that I really don't deserve, "And we knew we'd done the right thing when the Capitol fell ten months ago."

"Why would you start to create an underground system when you heard of a scrawny girl from an unimportant district?" I inquire, gritting my teeth.

"Give yourself some credit." Peeta whispers in my ear, giving me a squeeze.

"We knew that you were special." She begins to walk backwards, facing us as she talks, "Everyone did but yourself."

"That's not true." I snap.

"What? It's not true that you didn't know?"

"Not everyone thought I was different."

"Katniss, you got an 11." Reilly refers to the Gamemakers' score.

"Because they wanted me dead!"

"Which is exactly what makes you special." Reilly grins victoriously.

She turns to walk forward again, and we all fall silent for the remainder of the walk.

Finally, the physics-defying tunnel comes to an end, leaving us to stare at a large metal door. Reilly leans forward and presses a button next to a speaker.

"Reilly, Peeta, and Katniss." She says into it, releasing the button when the last name leaves her mouth.

I flinch as a booming, static-filled voice surrounds us, from a speaker in the roof. "It's open, Ry."

"That's Eli." Reilly mouths, then presses the button again, "Thanks."

Sliding an ID card through a slot on the door, Reilly gains entrance, the doors swinging open. I have to literally jump out of the way to keep from getting crushed.

"Geez! You could've warned me!" I gape at Reilly, who's giggling.

"Sorry." She says, insincerity littering her voice.

"Ry, be nice to our guests." I look up to see a gorgeous boy standing in the doorway, grinning down at me. He looks a lot like his sister, beautiful in every way, but he doesn't have the bitterness that Reilly contains. Instead there's a kind of emptiness in his eyes.

"Hey. I'm so glad you guys finally made it. I'm Eli Stark." He holds his hand out to me, eyes never once looking at Peeta. Before I can reach up to shake his hand Peeta has gripped it, from an awkward angle.

"Peeta Mellark." He grits his teeth in a threatening smile.

Eli is much taller than Peeta, about 6' 4", and Reilly told us that he's twenty years old.

Still, Peeta looks like he's ready to beat him up if he flirts with me. I can't help but smirk at his jealousy.

"Nice to meet you." Eli laughs at Peeta, causing my fiancée to flush with anger.

I'm thoroughly amused at the thought of Peeta truly not liking someone.

"Katniss Everdeen. Soon to be Mellark." I nod at Eli and purposefully ignoring his outstretched hand to humor Peeta.

"Nice to meet you as well." Eli grins, bright green eyes sparkling. "Well, might as well show you around and explain some stuff." He motions for us to follow him, and we enter the door, emerging in what reminds me of District 13's Control room.

Screens litter the walls, everyone one of them displaying a different picture. People dressed in lab coats flick images on and off the screens, not bothering to turn and greet who came in. The room is circular, the mid-section sitting lower than the outer ring. Everything from the floor to the ceiling is either silver or white. One wall off to my right has an outstanding display of weapons, from electrifying swords to a bow and arrow that catches my eye.

"Welcome to the Marines headquarters." Eli spreads his hands proudly, and my mouth drops open as I look up. We seem to be on the bottom floor of another tube, this one vertical. There's a hollow middle through each of the floors, allowing me to look straight up at the open sky thirty stories above us.

"How…?" I trail off, at a loss for words.

"Isn't it awesome?" Eli grins, his pride for the place evident.

"It's pretty cool, I guess." Peeta grunts next to me, but I can see the awe on his face as well.

"How did you build this in two years?" My eyes are so wide I feel like they're as big as mouth O-shaped mouth.

"Very carefully." Eli gives me a subtle wink, one that Peeta doesn't catch. I roll my eyes. "So, have a seat, and I'll explain what our operation is all about."

We make our way into the sunken in part of the first floor, taking seats. Peeta doesn't let go of my hand once.

"I hear you guys have been attacked?" Eli begins.

"Three times, actually." Peeta answers sharply.

"Well, that's why we're here. After the rebellion, and everything you two did, we came to the conclusion that there would be some… er… differences in opinions about the Capitol being changed. So, after this place was built, we finally had a purpose for it. We've kept tabs on every single Capitol-born since the Rebels won the war." He pauses for a moment, and I find myself staring at one of the screens on the wall, displaying a green grid with red and yellow dots slowly moving around it. It takes me a minute to realize that the screen is tracking one red dot, that seems to stay in the middle. A Capitol-born. "There are approximately thirty-three of these people who have shown signs of anger at the changing in their city. There were thirty-six, but you two seem to have annihilated three of them."

"So every one of the bombers got away?" I say, horrified at the thought of the murderers running around freely. Then I remember that I'm a murderer as well.

"No. Four are in custody." Reilly pipes up, and Eli jabs her in the gut with his elbow, cussing under his breath.

"There were five." I whisper, the picture of them surrounded by soldiers still fresh in my mind.

Eli runs his hands over his face, and then drops them to his sides, "One got away."

My stomach flips, and I find myself gripping Peeta's hand tighter. "Who?"

When neither of the siblings answer, I swallow and repeat louder, "Who?"

Reilly slinks back apologetically as Eli pulls up a screen in front of us, flipping through pictures of Capitol people.

He stops on a face that I instantly recognize as Lina.

"How did she get away?" Peeta chews on his inner cheek, rubbing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb.

"She killed seven people with a crow bar."

My eyes close, and I find myself spinning through a black void as I try to straighten out my thoughts.

"Where is she now?" Peeta asks, his voice tight.

There's silence for a few seconds, and then Eli mutters, "We can't locate her."

My heart stops, my eyes flutter open, and I find myself standing and marching out of the room furiously.

Right as I reach the metal doors they swing shut in my face, and a blaring alarm surrounds me. The entire control room is bathed in swirling red lights, the hole to the sky slamming shut abruptly, leaving us in an eerie blackness permeated every few seconds by a flash of red.

"Katniss!" I hear Peeta scream, and I use the few seconds of light to make my way into his arms.

"You two! Follow me!" I hear Reilly scream, and we begin to make out way towards her voice. Less than two seconds later, I'm hit in the back of the head with something hard, and fall flat on my face.

The last thing I feel before blacking out is a sharp crack as my nose hits the cold metal floor.

**((A/N I decided that a cliffy was allowed, considering I've given you two chapters in two hours :) What do you all think is happening? :O))**


	26. Chapter 26

After about twenty seconds of unconsciousness, I blink my eyes open. A rush of panic runs through me as I find myself being dragged by my ankles, my fingernails scratching against the cold floor.

I roll over onto my back and lash out with my feet, connecting with solid human body.

I hear a grunt, and the grip on my ankles loosens enough for me to wriggle free. The moment I'm on my feet, arms grip me from behind, a hand clamping tight over my mouth.

I'm about to bite down hard on the thumb that covers my lips, but a sharp whisper reaches my ear, "Katniss. It's me."

I recognize Eli's voice, and stop fighting as he leads me farther into darkness, away from the now muffled sounds of sirens.

I don't know where we are, considering we're not in the ocean-covered tunnel. I don't remember seeing any other entrance or exit other than the hole in the roof, which I assume is where the Control center was breached.

When I figure we're far enough away to not be heard, I whisper, "Where's Peeta?"

"Reilly has him. She knows what she's doing. He'll be okay." He tries to reassure me, but I can't help but worry.

"Where are we going?"

"Shhh. We're getting out of here. We'll meet them in about twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes." I repeat to myself, to assure my own sanity.

I feel like I've been walking forever, even though it's probably only been ten minutes at most. The air down here tastes like smoke and dirt, and it makes me nauseous. Eli seems to be completely immune to the stressful situation, as if he's gone through this process dozens of times. He insists on walking behind me, even though I have no idea where I'm going. Every once in a while, he'll reach forward and place his hands on my hips to guide me around a corner. I've slapped his hands away all four times.

"Are we almost there?" I hiss quietly, even though we're probably a mile away from the sirens now.

"It's up here." He says, his breath hot on my neck. I shiver, not liking how close he is to me.

"Thank God." I say, hoping he takes it offensively and backs off a little.

Instead he places both hands on my shoulders, "We're going to be okay."

The fact that those are the exact words Peeta had used only days before when we were in a bad situation perturbs me. The way Eli says them reminds me of a snake; a gorgeous snake, I admit, but a snake none-the-less. His tone of voice makes me feel uncomfortable, like he's begging for my attention. Peeta had used those words reassuringly, to calm me down and keep me safe in a caring sort of way.

I feel a pang in my chest, like a heartache but actual physical pain. I stop walking for a moment, wincing and pressing the heel of my hand onto my sternum.

Eli bumps into me from behind, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." I say through grit teeth, taking a deep breath and ignoring the pain.

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Just my chest." I practically spit.

"We'll check you over when we get into light." He says, as if to reassure me. But his words only send another wave of annoyance through me.

"Look, Eli. I was supposed to get married less than three days ago. I would be, if it weren't for these stupid Capitol-freaks. I'm still engaged, and I'm in love with him. So if you could back off a little bit, that be just dandy." I bat my eyes sarcastically, even though I know he can't see my face in the pitch black.

He doesn't answer, and silence fills the tunnel, leaving a slight buzzing in my ears. I sigh, turning around and continuing to walk down the tunnel.

A hand grabs my wrist, and I yank it away instantly, adrenaline pumping into my system.

"Look. I'm sorry." Eli mutters, "My manners… they're different from yours. It's hard to know, because I raised myself, and-"

"I raised myself too." I say, trying to sound vicious. But the fact that someone can relate to me on the whole 'alone-through-childhood' thing makes me soften a bit.

"Hm. I didn't know that."

"Obviously." I take a deep breath, "Can we please keep moving?" When he doesn't object, I turn and march forward.

I have to contain all my strength to not jump for joy when a prick of light marks the end of the tunnel. I can't keep myself from picking up the pace a little, though.

As I break into daylight, my lungs filling with cool, outside air, I feel like I've just woken up. Energy refills my body, and I find myself itching to go for a run, or do something to stretch my muscles.

"Where are they?" I ask, turning to see Eli emerging from the tunnel behind me. He brushes dust from his caramel colored hair.

"About another mile that way." He points, and a grin breaks out on my face. I can run a mile in a little less than five minutes.

I begin to take off, and I can hear Eli begin running behind me.

Ducking through tree branches and hopping over rocks and roots takes me back to when I was fifteen, racing through the woods with Gale. Eli runs next to me, about Gale's height and just as fast.

The thought of being back in the woods behind District 12 with my best friend again causes my heart to speed up, and for a minute I lose my footing, my toe catching on a rock. I lose my balance and tumble forward, doing a somersault and coming back up on my feet, never once losing a beat. I can feel myself smile.

"Fancy." Eli laughs next to me.

Five minutes later we slow down, finding ourselves at a small pond in the denseness of the forest.

The thick barrier of trees stops for a moment, and when I break into the openness I see Peeta and Reilly across the little field, sitting on a log.

They seem to have been having a very intense conversation, but the moment Eli and I show up, Peeta looks over toward us and a look of relief washes over him. He stands and makes his way over to us, arms wrapping tightly around me. I wrap my own arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest for a few moments. Just the feel of him in my arms again gives me a sense of calm no other thing could do.

My nose hits his chest, and I suck in a sharp breath, remembering the crack of it on the floor. I can tell it's swollen, maybe broken.

"Are you okay?" he pulls his face back to look over mine. He has a few new scratches, but I'm sure I do too.

"I think so. Are you?" I answer, reaching up and running my fingers over his cheek.

"Yeah." He takes a deep breath, kissing my forehead, "We have to get out of here."

I know I agree, but for a moment I wish that we could just stay here like this forever.

"Okay." I sigh, pulling away from him, "Let's go."

"Go?" Reilly blinks up at me, confused, "Where do you wanna go?"

"What do you mean? You don't have a plan after this?" Peeta asks, eyes wide.

"Of course we do. It'll just take a while to put into action." Eli pulls out a knife from his belt and begins to sharpen a stick.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap.

"It means I have to go back in there," Eli points the stick towards where we came from, "Beat up the bad guys, and interrogate them to find out who all is trying to kill you two. Because I don't think you want to go out into public again with people eager to slaughter you."

"Nothing I haven't done before." I mutter quietly.

"So what do we do until then?" Peeta asks, his arm snaking around my waist.

"You guys get to chill out here with me." Reilly grins, pulling a backpack from behind her and starting to rummage through it.

"What? We just camp out here until you return with some information an unreliable source may or may not give to you?" my fists tighten next to me, and my teeth grind together from side to side.

"You're not as dense as I thought you were." Reilly spits sarcastically. An image pops into my head of drowning her in the little pond, and I wonder to myself how hard it would be.

"Ry. Don't get on people's nerves." Eli sighs. He stands up, slips his knife back into its spot, and grips the now sharpened stick. "Well. See you all later." Without further goodbyes, he walks away, disappearing into the forest once more.

"We'll put the fire pit here, and two tents here." Reilly points to two empty spots about ten feet from the pond. "I mean… assuming you two want to share?" I see her face turn a shade redder.

"That's fine." Peeta says casually.

"Okay. And we're going to need food for tonight…" she trails off, looking up at me. "I hear you're good with dead animals."

"You got any arrows?" I raise an eyebrow in question.

She snorts, "Honey, if I could've grabbed arrows, I would've grabbed food."

"You know, a simple 'no' without the attitude would suffice."

"Here. I've seen you do snares." She throws me a thing of rope, and a coil of wire.

"Seen me?" I catch them mid-air, thinking of how to set the traps.

"During the 74th Games." She sighs as if exasperated.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm exhausting you with my stupidity, so if you want to do something productive instead of nagging, I'll be going now." I give her a sharp glare, and turn to trod into the woods.

"Uh…" I hear Peeta stammer, the poor thing stunned by our girl-fight. "I'll be with her." He says to Reilly, and a few moments later he's by my side, struggling to keep up with my long, pissed off strides. "What was that about?"

"I don't like her." I say, slowing my pace a little for him to catch up.

"Me neither." Peeta chuckles next to me, and I can't help but smirk.

Soon the forest breaks open, leaving us on a small beach. On either side of the strip of sand, a huge rock wall stretches up, as if a barrier to keep us hidden. The beach is extremely small, only about seventy feet long.

"This is beautiful." I breathe in awe. I've never been to a real beach, only the mutant-filled one last year.

"It is." Peeta agrees. His hand slips into mine, and I smile at him.

The whole atmosphere completely calms me down, and my scat with Reilly seems like it happened a year ago.

I lean in to kiss Peeta, but he pulls away. I look up at him, confused. "Everything okay?"

"Katniss, I realized something yesterday, but I never got to tell you." He takes both of my hands in his, and I try not to worry, despite my utter confusion.

"And?"

"And have you noticed that we haven't kissed since the day before our wedding?" he chews on his bottom lip, a habit that I've come to see as adorable.

"I have noticed." I swallow a lump in my throat, nervous but I don't know why.

"Well… legally… we've said our vows with a priest there…" he takes a deep breath, and it clicks in my mind. He's trying to tell me that all we have to do to get married is kiss. The next time my lips meet his, we'll be Mr. and Mrs. Mellark.

My heart skips a beat. "Wait…"

"Katniss, you said 'I do'. Right?"

"Yes." I look into his eyes.

He nods once, "So did I."

It's quiet for a few moments, holding each other's hands and thinking.

Then he leans forward and presses his forehead to mine, "Do you want to get married to me? Right here, right now?" his lips twitch into the smallest of smiles, and I feel fluttering in my chest and stomach.

I mimic his half-smile, and laugh quietly, "You may now kiss the bride."

He chuckles and leans into me, our lips finding each other's. I throw my arms around his neck and he wraps his arms around my waist, picking me up off the ground.

A million thoughts run through my mind as I realize that the feel of his lips against mine at this moment changes my entire life.

When our lips break apart, I'm breathing heavily, a grin plastered onto my face.

Despite all the pain, confusion, and confliction in the past two years of my life, I'm finally free; a new person.

Katniss _Everdeen_ is gone.

**((A/N If you guys got to this Chapter (26), I'm so thankful you've been sticking with me through this story. Means a lot. And it paid off, right? I hope so :) HOLY MATRIMONY!))**


	27. Chapter 27

**((A/N Sorry I haven't updated in, like, a week. It's the last week of school and I'm super busy, as well as ridiculously sick with some unknown virus. I can barely stay awake haha, so I apologize if there are errors in this chapter. I'd just assumed I should update, considering how long it's been. I promise I'll update later this week with a much MUCH better chapter. Also, I'm sorry for the length and lack of forward-moving plot in this chapter. Happy reading! 3))**

I'd always imagined that having a husband would be a lot more… different.

The four days after our kiss, Peeta and I maintained the same relationship as before, as if nothing happened. Of course, we couldn't really do anything, considering we were stuck in a tent in the middle of nowhere with a seventeen year old to watch over us.

Every day is the same routine: Wake up, hunt, eat, hunt, eat, sleep. Repeat.

The repetition is starting to get on my nerves.

I drive the tip of the knife into the soft ground, feeling small plants' roots crack out of the way as I dig. The feel of the muddy earth underneath me has been supporting my sanity, keeping me from going crazy out here.

There's the sound of three or four birds chirping in the distance, and I focus my ears on them, instead of the faint shrill scream of a siren.

They haven't stopped since two days ago. Reilly says it's just a precaution, to scare any more attackers away. I've never heard of such an obnoxious precaution.

The snare that I'm working on suddenly snaps, the thin wire cut by the serrated edge of my knife. The net that I'm kneeling on shoots into the air, my ankle caught in between holes.

I let out a sharp scream, but it soon turns into a fit of giggles as I dangle upside down, my face six feet from the ground.

A million thoughts run through my mind, but the biggest one is _'I'm giggling. I've finally gone crazy'_.

I pull the upper half of my body up, latching my fingers onto the top of the net where it connects to the tree, but realize that I've dropped my knife on the ground, my arms too short to reach. I curse, letting my torso fall limply back into its hanging position.

"Katniss?" I hear Peeta call from not too far away.

"Over here!" I call, pressure from the blood rush filling my head.

Peeta breaks through the line of trees, worry covering his expression. "Oh my gosh! Are you alright?" he runs up to me, assessing the situation.

"I'm fine." I laugh, and his worry melts into an amused grin.

"What happened?"

"I don't know." I pout slightly, and he chuckles, leaning forward and kissing me. I've never had an upside-down kiss before, but it's nothing like a right-side-up one. I kind of like it.

"Let's get you down." He takes the knife and cuts the edge of the rope, sending me face-down into the dirt.

I spit gritty pieces of sand and dirt from my mouth.

"Sorry." He squats beside me, helping me up.

"It's okay." I smile.

We stand, his arm around my shoulder, and make our way back towards camp where Reilly is waiting with dinner, the screaming of the siren reminding me constantly of the situation we're in.


	28. Chapter 28

**((A/N I'm back! And healthy once more! Hope this chapter clears some things up :) Review please!))**

It's been two weeks since we returned to the town we'd first arrived to, in District 4. Two weeks since Eli came back for us, and told us it was safe to return.

I hate this stupid town. It has a population of twenty-two, smells like old fish, and the food tastes like it's been rotting somewhere for years.

I've inquired countless times as to the day we could go home, but the most definite answer I've received so far has been, 'maybe', which doesn't even make sense.

Overall, the food sucks, the water's gross, the people are either old or mental, and there is no telling of when I can just go home again. The only good in this whole dang situation was that Peeta and I finally got to have our 'honeymoon', if you can even call it that. Nothing spells romance like a stale-aired shack on the edge of Hick-ville.

But I guess it's okay. Peeta (as always) is seeing the bright side of this, the generosity of the people to give us a solitary place to stay. For once, his optimism doesn't piss me off. It kind of eases me.

So does his hand in mine as we make our way towards the Stark residence, on our way to get whatever information we can juice out of Eli.

"I can't wait to go home." My nose crinkles up as we pass a lidless trash can, a flavorful burst of odor in between the stagnant seafood smells.

"Me neither. Although, these past weeks have been the best of my life." He gives my hand a squeeze. I shrug, weighing our marriage and this horrible place. I know in the back of my mind, I wouldn't have given a moment of it up.

We find ourselves at the 'door' of the Starks' home, which is really just a slab of wood propped up against more slabs of wood. Peeta raises his knuckles to knock on the door, but I grab his wrist to stop him from pounding as I hear someone inside.

"Elijah Winfred Stark, you have to tell me!" Reilly's voice pleads from inside. I press my ear to the door and smirk, mouthing "Winfred?" to Peeta. His shoulders shake in a silent laugh.

"You're not a part of the operation, you don't have the right to demand this knowledge." Eli says, his voice farther away and stern.

"My _brother_ is the head of this operation! If you have information… Eli, you need to tell me."

"No, I don't."

"Can you please just tell me who Lina Malone is?" she blows a stream of air through tight lips, the sound penetrating the following silence. Peeta leans his body against mine, trying to hear a little better. He grips my shoulder for support.

"She's the daughter of Harry Malone." Eli's voice is quieter, whether it's because he's farther or he's lowered it, I can't tell.

"That famous Capitol guy?" Reilly asks, intrigued.

"Yeah, he was the infamous doctor."

"Oh my God. He did…" Reilly trails off, and I feel Peeta stiffen beside me. His fingers close tighter on my shoulder, digging into my skin through my clothes, and I hear him suck in a sharp breath.

"You okay?" I ask, my voice extremely quiet. Peeta doesn't answer, but his eyes widen and he lets go of me to balance himself on a tree. His knuckles turn white as he grips the small circumference of the trunk. There's a far off, terrified look in his eyes. That look is familiar to me. He is not okay.

"He mutilated prisoner's minds with tracker-jacker venom." Eli says, and I feel my own blood run cold.

After Peeta had been rescued from the Capitol, he still had frequent attacks. The aftermath of the tracker-jacker venom left him scarred, both mentally and emotionally. I had been the one to help him through it all. But I never told him how much it terrified me, when he had the attacks. I feared for my life, but something inside me didn't let me just walk away from him. I needed to help.

This attack is different. He doesn't look at me like I disgust him, doesn't lunge towards me and grip my throat in his fists. Instead his eyes water up, and tears run down his cheeks as he stares at me, his lip trembling.

I take a step forward to wrap my arms around him in comfort, but he flinches at my slightest movement, as if I'm a threat to his safety. I let my arms drop to my side and watch helplessly as he fights the memories.

He transitions from crying to hyperventilating, and then his eyes close. The tree snaps in his hands, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Katniss." He says between grit teeth, "We're safe. Real or not real?"

"Right now, we're perfectly fine." I say, reaching out and laying a hand on his trembling arm. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming himself.

"This… This hasn't happened in months." Peeta runs his fingers through his hair and slides to a sitting position. I kneel down next to him, trying to show more sympathy than horror.

"It was bound to happen again." I say gently, using my thumb to rub his cheek.

"Lina is the daughter of the doctor that screwed with my mind. I saw her."

"Saw her?" I ask, eyebrows knitting together.

"One time…" he clears his throat, taking a shuddering breath, "Once, during one of our sessions." He breathes again, "She wandered in, and Doctor Malone let her help. I remember now."

"Help how?" my curiosity is overwhelming.

He closes his eyes, "She inserted the needle."

"Oh. Peeta, I'm so sorry." I say, scooting over to sit next to him. My arm wraps around him, and he hugs me tight. Pain fills my chest as my heart breaks for the thousandth time, once for every time he's mentioned his torture.

I don't know whether to cry with him, or reassure him, or comfort him with kisses, so I just sit there, holding him as he calms himself down.

I may not know what to do now, but I know what to do next.

I have to kill Lina Malone.

**((BUMBUMBUMMMMM))**


	29. Chapter 29

There's this hut that's on the beach, a half-mile from the town; the town which I had decided to name Hellhole. I'd found the hut while chasing after an old lady's hat that was carried by the stupid ocean breeze. She'd given me some sort of cookie as a thank you, but I would've rather had her keep it. It tasted like a sea-sponge.

The hut, I suppose, had once been a home, but it is no bigger than my own bedroom back in District Twelve. It has holes in the rotting wood of its walls, and the metal roof is so rusted in some places that sunlight finds its way into the windowless structure.

This place smells like dead fish, and there are piles of dust and debris in the corners, but it's empty and that's all I need.

This is the place where I breakdown.

I sit in the center of the room, head in my hands, trying to sort through my thoughts. I'm sure Peeta's looking for me, but he can last thirty minute without me by his side. I hope.

I'm one of those people that's never expected to keep their composure, because of my publicity stunts that were broadcasted throughout all of Panem. Everyone knows I speak my mind.

But I'm only good at channeling certain emotions.

Anger is the easiest. I'm easily pissed off, and it's unbearably obvious when I am.

Happiness is a little harder; I've been told I always look depressed, or that I reek of pessimism. But I can act happy if I need to.

The hardest emotion for me to contain, or get across to people, is confusion. I hate being confused. Not having control or knowledge of a situation drives me crazy, and I don't know how to express confusion because, well… I'm confused.

So I have these moments where I sort of mutate my confusion into adrenaline or anger, and let it out that way. In other words, I make it easier on myself.

With my fists by my sides, I take a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth, letting my mind wander through the things I'm questioning, the things I'm not quite sure about, and the things I'm doubting.

I'm questioning the loyalty of the Stark siblings.

I'm not quite sure about how I feel on the topic of Peeta's last episode.

And I'm doubting that I'm going to purely enjoy life for more than two consecutive hours in my entire lifespan.

My head snaps up at the sound of rustling outside the cabin-type building I'm in. I take a deep breath and push myself into a standing position, slowly as to not make any noise. I don't know if I've broken into someone's private property or not.

The makeshift door of the hut swings open, and Reilly's head sticks in. Her eyes are wide, and I hear an exasperated sigh from her lips, although they don't move.

"I'm sorry if I… Like, broke in to someone's… ah…" I stutter, blinking innocently. Of course, who can I fool by pretending to be 'innocent'?

"No, this place has been abandoned for a decade." She takes a step inside and her eyes sweep over the roof and floor until they meet mine.

"Yeah, I kind of figured." I reach out and brush my fingertips against the wall, rusty dust turning them orange.

"It was-" She stops and swallows before continuing, "It's where I was born."

I can see no pain in her expression, but I know it's there. She looks so composed and pulled-together from the outside. I know from experience what that means about her inside.

"I'm sorry." I say, barely audible. Apologies aren't really my forte.

"No, it's okay. Just haven't been here in a while." She chews on her lip, "Well, the reason I'm here is because half the town's looking for you."

"Why?" I ask. Half of the town is only maybe a dozen people, but I've only been gone for maybe ten minutes.

"Something on the television. We all thought you might want to see." She smiles and motions for me to follow her outside.

Most things on the news pertain to me, even if I haven't done anything special in the past year. Of course, the huge wedding catastrophe might have been a hit, but it's been like a month since it happened. And I wouldn't want to see that broadcasted.

We make our way back up the small hill to town, and I see no one in the streets, giving the place an eerie ghost town feeling.

Reilly leads me into one of the bigger buildings on the main street, and I see the whole population of the town gathered around one small buzzing TV. Their full attention is turned from the flashing screen to me and Reilly as we enter, the door slamming obnoxiously noisily behind me. It makes me cringe a little, both the loud noise and the attention.

I see Peeta across the room, and he looks up as the door settles back into its place. His eyes land on me, and he gives a faint smile, one that I can barely see. I smile back at him, still seeing him as vulnerable from his last attack. It pains me to see him like this.

I turn my attention to the TV, head throbbing with an incoming headache.

There's a reporter on the screen, one that's fairly normal looking compared to the old Capitol reporters, whose outfits took up the entire screen.

This woman is fit into a blazer and pencil skirt, and her normal chestnut hair is pulled into a tight ponytail.

"Good afternoon, Panem. This message has been recorded and will be replayed all throughout the day, as to inform every citizen." The audio from the system is terrible, making her voice sound extremely fuzzy. "As you all know, Mr. Peeta Mellark and Ms. Katniss Everdeen's wedding was attacked about one month ago. Since then, we have not heard from them." My old name sounds awkward, rolling off her tongue as I'm sure it has dozens of times before. "Our investigations and processes have led us to believe that the two were abducted by a group of rogue District Four people. What they are doing with the couple has not yet been revealed. This message is for anyone who has any information on the whereabouts of the two. If they have been abducted, the Capitol will find them." The audio turns scratchy, and the woman on the screen is replaced by a shiny blank screen, reflecting the petrified faces of the viewers.

"What does that mean?" I demand.

"It means we have to go back to the Capitol and tell them what's really going on." Peeta's eyebrows are knit together in deep thought, and he makes his way around the crowd to me.

"Back? But that's where we're most vulnerable!" My eyes widen.

"No, Katniss. Why we haven't gone home yet… It's because they're waiting for us to return. The die-hard Capitols." He says slowly, as if my head will explode if he tries to explain any quicker. Which it might.

"So, what? We go back and have every one of them taken into custody, and then live the rest of our lives in constant fear that they've escaped? I don't think so." I look up at him, jaw clenched tight. He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, gently. He is treating me like a dangerous explosive.

"Not at all. We go back, tell them what's been going on, and they handle everything. It's their job to keep us safe."

"Not everyone is successful at their jobs."

"Well then, I have you to protect me, don't I?" he asks quietly, taking my hand in his. "And I'll never let anyone hurt you."

I hate when he does this. His soft tone of voice and gentle touches tear down my defenses, brick by brick. He knows how to persuade me, and I care too much to back down.

He kisses my forehead, and asks in my ear, "Trust me?"

"Okay." I whisper back, one fist clenched by my side. I'm not happy about giving in, but I can't do otherwise with his lips so close to mine. I'm thinking about pressing my mouth to his, but then I remember that the whole town is in the room with us, and I pull back slowly, slipping my hand out of his.

I look over the crowd, all of them watching us, and feel heat rush to my face. Talk about awkward.

"So, who can give us a ride back to the Capitol?" Peeta flashes everyone his award-winning grin.

"I will." A hand is raised in the back of the crowd, "After all, I got you here."

**((A/N Review! :D))**


	30. Chapter 30

There are way too many prissy, stereotypical girls in this world. The way that they squeal... It makes my very soul shudder in disgust.

I have to dig my fingernails into my own skin to keep from ripping out the throat of the girl closest to me. Her high-pitched wailing sounds identical to the wild dog Gale once accidentally caught in a snare, sending the poor thing into excruciating pain. I can only dream of tossing this girl into one of the same traps.

Of course, even if she shut her ginormous mouth, I wouldn't be able to hear anything. The roar of the remainder of the crowd is deafening, even as Caesar enters the stage.

"Please, please! Panem, may I have your full attention?" Caesar's high-tech microphone even sounds puny, his booming voice lost in the ocean of screams below our stage.

Caesar tries a few more times, his attempts being utterly pointless.

There was only one way to shut this crowd up, and I knew how.

I stand, stride over to Caesar, and take the mic from his hands without permission. His mouth drops open in silent protest, but he does nothing to stop me.

I saw this in an old movie once, one of the few that the Districts were permitted to see. I'm not one hundred percent sure it will work, but I'll try anything to get rid of this ever-growing migraine.

I take a few steps to the front of the stage, where speakers have been strategically placed so that the whole stadium can hear every word said through the microphone. I kneel down and grit my teeth as I test my theory.

More annoying than the voices of the people, thick feedback permeates the air as I press the top of the microphone to the speaker. I can hear the crowd react immediately; within seconds, the only sound in the whole building is obnoxious static. Every eye in the place is focused on me.

I refuse to let myself blush or flush as I clear my throat and say, "This lady named Effie Trinket tried to teach me manners once. Maybe I should introduce her to you all." I let my insult sink in as I make my way back to my seat next to a gaping Peeta. I hand Caesar the microphone, and he takes it cautiously, as if I would hurt him. I smirk on the inside.

"Th-thank you Katniss..." I don't know if anyone has ever made Caesar stumble over his usually crisp words before, but I consider it a small victory. "It's just wonderful to have you two back."

"Thanks Caesar. We've missed it." There goes Peeta with his smooth-as-butter lying.

"I bet! I would much rather prefer the Capitol over a ratty ghost town." Caesar chuckles, and the crowd mutters their agreement.

"Well, I never get what I prefer, so I guess that means I don't really want to be here." And cue my amazing, sarcastic perspective. Peeta gives my hand a small squeeze, as if asking me 'what the hell are you doing?'

"Ah Katniss. We've missed your entertaining banter!" Caesar laughs whole-heartedly, and I laugh along, trying not to sound overly fake.

"And we're missed your shiny hair, Mr. Flickerman." I cock my head to the side slightly, smiling.

Caesar runs his hand over his sparkling gold hair, and thanks me with a gaudiness only a Capitol-born could muster.

"Well, onto what the people want to know!" Caesar waves at the crowd, and I shift so that I'm facing the crowd now, instead of Caesar.

"I think we'll begin with the most important question of the evening! What we all want to know is… What is Katniss's last name?" Caesar's question sends the crowd roaring again, but I laugh at the wording of his question. This man is so outside of the box, it's not even funny. Or… yes, actually, it IS funny.

"Well, you all know about the unfortunate mishap of our wedding being blown sky high." Peeta rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated, melodramatic sigh to play along.

"And…?" Caesar asks, "What happened in District Four?"

"Legally, Katniss and I had both said our vows. But due to explosions, vomit, and obnoxious boys, we hadn't gotten our kiss. Then one afternoon, Katniss and I were out hunting."

"Actually, I was out hunting. You were just admiring me." I jab him in the ribs playfully.

"You're right." He gives me a slight wink, one that I don't think the rest of the people could ever see, but when the crowd lets out a resounding 'AWWWW', I remember that there are screens to the right and left of the stage, projecting a blown up image of our faces.

"And that's when you realized?" Caesar inquires.

"I had realized the day before, but I hadn't told her, because…" Peeta trails off for a few seconds and then looks me in the eye, "I was worried she'd changed her mind or something of that manner."

"But I didn't. And I wouldn't ever have." I smile at him, hoping to look convincing. Truthfully, all I was feeling at the moment was pain from the tight corset around my torso.

"We found this private beach, and that's when I told her." Peeta grins at me, and then at Caesar, "Her last name is Mellark." Again, the crowd deafens me.

"And are we looking forward to a little Mellark any time soon?" Caesar raises a gold eyebrow, leaning forward to look at me.

"No." is all I say. Then I bite my tongue to keep from talking.

"We're still working on that, Caesar." Peeta takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze. Careful not to let the crowd see, I take my hand away from his and fold them in front of me. Just one word about having a child has boarded me on the train for moody-town.

"Well, make sure to keep us updated on that."

"Of course." Peeta grins. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in the room who can tell it's a fake smile.

"That's all for today, folks! You hear Mr. Mellark! We'll be kept up to date on this adorable relationship!" The crowd screams in adoration as Caesar bows, and then Peeta and I follow him backstage.

The first thing I do when I'm out of sight and alone is rip off the stupid dress I'm wearing. It's tight bodice was restricting air to my lungs, and there are marks on my skin where it pressed into it. One spot is actually bleeding a little.

I groan in disgust as I pull on regular clothing, and pin my curled bangs back so that they're out of my eyes. I can't find a hair tie, so I leave my hair alone.

When I emerge from the dressing room, I'm immediately surrounded by four guards, one on each corner of me. They hold huge guns, and their faces are covered by helmets and masks.

I try to squeeze through them, or make runs to get away from them, but they follow my every move.

Until Lina is caught, this is my life.

Restraint and confinement.

**((A/N Hey! Hope you all are liking this story still! ... Here's the thing. I don't know how many of you that were fans for the first dozen chapters are still entertained! SO if you could send me a review to tell me if I'm keeping your attention, that'd be great :) HAPPY SUMMER! :D Love you guys!))**


	31. Chapter 31

**((A/N OOOOOKay. I am SO sorry that it's been, what? A MONTH? But I can explain. I forgot to warn ya'll that I was going to camp for two weeks. And then these past couple weeks, I've been with my best friend, who's stuck in the hospital. Again. I'm only fifteen. I have a life to attend to. So, apology, apology, apology! UGH! I am so sorry. And to all of you who have been asking if chapter 30 was the end... Well, now you know that it's not :) READ ON, my dear friends! Review!))**

"Ouch!" I immediately recoil from the sharp pinch, hugging myself and retreating to my bed.

"Sorry, love." Peeta holds up the splinter that was lodged in my finger, letting me know of his victory. He lets his head fall back into the wall, a sharp thump in the otherwise silent room. There's another thump, for good measure I'm guessing.

"These guards are really starting to piss me off." I say, rolling onto my stomach to bury my face into the soft pillows. "GO AWAY!" I scream, the sound muffled by the feathers and cloth.

"Ma'am, we have been assigned to keep watch over you and Mr. Mellark until our runaway has resurfaced." The same old lecture from the same old guard.

"Runaway? Is that what you're calling her now? How about murderer! Criminal! Demon!"

"Katniss, you need to chill out." Peeta plops down beside me, the bed bouncing under the redistribution of weight. He lays a hand on my shoulder, and I roll over to lay on my back. "These men are here to protect us. You can at least give them a little respect. They're doing their job, and it's not our place to get mad if they're doing it well."

"A little too well. Peeta, that one follows me when I have to _pee_." My hand shoots out to point at a guard.

"Well, you need the most protection when you're most vulnerable." He says, face serious. Then, out of nowhere he breaks into a grin and he cracks up, tears springing into his eyes.

I stare at him without emotion. "Peeta, I'm beginning to become genuinely worried about your sanity."

He snorts something inaudible about vulnerability and toilet paper, and then covers his face with his hands for a few moments, regaining his composure. "You're right. I'm going insane. We need to get out of here." He stands up and offers me his hand, which I take. He pulls me to a standing position next to him, and then hugs me into his side before marching towards the door.

"Where are we-?" "SHH!" he cuts me off, opening the door and taking a step out.

I look over my shoulder as the guards all fall into position behind us, but Peeta spins on his heel to face them. "Could you leave us alone for a few moments?"

"Sir, we have been assigned to keep watch over you and Mrs. Mellark until our runaway has resurfaced." I have to grit my teeth and dig my nails into my palms to keep from punching this guard silly.

Peeta shrugs, apparently not hurt by the guard's rejection of his request, "Worth a try."

"Is it worth a thousand tries? Because I'm starting to give up." I sigh, letting him drag me along down the hallway.

I'm really starting to get sick of this hallway.

It's pure white; the walls, the floors, the ceiling, even the security cameras have been plastered with white. It's harsh on my eyes, that haven't seen the sun in weeks.

Not that it's an unfamiliar hall. I've been to District Thirteen before. It's just that it's changed so much since the Rebellion ended. Hiding wasn't necessary anymore, so this District emptied out quickly. After all, who would want to live underground if it wasn't necessary?

And so it's been turned into a high-tech military base, prison, and psych ward. We're being kept on a floor called 'Recovery', where they keep the mentally unstable patients. They say it's only because no one would look for us here, so I try not to take offense. But I can't help but think that someday, if this insanity goes on much longer, I might actually end up here.

I'm surprised that Peeta knows his way around, considering he's barely been out of our room since arriving here last month. But he pulls me along, weaving through the hallways like it's nothing.

"Where are we going?" I ask quietly, under my breath so that the guards can't hear. Or I hope they can't. Their boots and equipment are painfully loud as they rattle with movement.

"Out." He gives me a subtle half-smile. I'm confused, but I don't ask any more questions.

We tromp along through the endless hallways, riding a couple of elevators in random directions, all the while not saying a word.

I get to thinking about the last time I was here, with my mother, Gale, and Prim. But the memory is too rough on me, and I immediately switch my train of thought the moment tears threaten to spring up in my eyes.

I don't even have to change my train of thought, because the next moment I'm aware of, I'm pushed behind Peeta's back, facing the stunned guards.

It takes me a moment to register what's going on, but then I suck in a sharp breath.

Peeta has somehow gotten his hands on a gun. Not the big kind, like I'm used to, but a small one a… pistol I think it's called. He has it pointed on the three guards that were following us. All of them wear the same expression: Shock. Their jaws are slack, and their eyes are wide.

"Peeta?" I squeak from behind him, as stunned as the unsuspecting guards.

"Okay, here goes." He clears his throat, "We appreciate that you're trying to help us, and we understand that it's your duty to follow us everywhere we go, but can you please just back off for a while? Everyone needs their alone time. Like Katniss said, we don't want you watching us while we… relieve ourselves. You're taking this way too far, and if you back off for just a few hours, we'd be extremely grateful and wouldn't squeal to anyone. So with that said, could you please show us the exit?"

The hallway echoes with his last word, rebounding off of the walls. It's silent for a few minutes. The thickness of the quiet begins to make me uncomfortable, and the shifting of my shoe on the tile floor breaks the silence.

"You got guts, kid. Pulling a gun on three officers who've been trained in weaponry. Especially since we know you can't pull the trigger."

I almost butt in, and explain how Peeta has shot someone before. But I bite my tongue, realizing that it would only make matters worse.

"And you've got guts, officer, for pissing off two victors who've lived through hell." Peeta's voice is so unlike himself. The action, the arguing; it's way out of character. It makes me realize how nuts this has driven him. He's closer to dropping off the deep end than I am.

The lead man seems to think this over and then laughs, dropping his gun to his side. "You two need therapy." The men beside him still have their weapons trained on us, beads of sweat forming on their foreheads.

"You bet we do, sir." Peeta chuckles, letting the hand holding the pistol fall back to his side. With this, the other two guards lower their weapons. "Now. Do we have a deal?"

"What? We let you two have a walk through the forest, and we don't get 'shot'?"

"Exactly." Peeta's grin is maniacal. His empty hand finds mine, and he gives it a squeeze of reassurance as if to tell me 'I'm only acting crazy to get us out of here'.

I squeeze back, hoping he reads it as a 'I like the wild side of Peeta'.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him smile.

"Well. I don't want to get hit by a bullet today. Do you boys?" the leader asks his followers.

"No, sir!" the say in unison, neither seeing the funny in this situation. I guess only the hysterical can find a stand-off hilarious.

"Then I guess we'd better show these _victors _the correct elevator."


	32. Chapter 32

The air is colder than I remember it being. The sun is nowhere to be seen, but it's painfully bright outside. The sky is a murky whitish-gray color that hurts my squinted eyes. I hold one of my hands up to shield them.

Puffs of white follow each of my breaths, reminding me of the cold winters back in District Twelve. Back home.

I can't say that I don't miss home. Even though it was empty and lonely before, now that I'm Mrs. Mellark, I would always have Peeta. But we haven't gotten to try out living together yet. We're too busy running from psychopaths.

I feel like my life just keeps getting farther and farther away from normal.

Peeta squeezes my fingers, and I realize that he's looking down at me, waiting for me to say something.

"How long?" I ask, not bothering to look toward the nearest guard.

"You can have an hour. But you must be back here by then. Otherwise, we'll have to give you some sort of punishment."

"I don't have any way to tell time." I say. Watches bother me, and there are no clocks in the forest.

I look over to see our guard handing something to Peeta. Before I can tell what it is, his fingers curl around it and he slips it into his pocket.

"Be back by four-thirty." After these words are spoken, there are footsteps walking away from us, and I know we've been left alone.

I don't move at first. I just stare at the forest, taking deep breaths and trying to control myself. Something about this independence from security sets me on edge, and I find my breaths deep and shaky.

This is the forest where Gale and I had gone hunting, when we were stuck in this District. I know where to go, but I can't make myself take that first step.

Peeta breaks my rigid silence with a kiss on the cheek. "Are you alright?"

"As alright as the situation will allow." I bite the inside of my cheek and then swallow the lump in my throat, "Might as well enjoy our freedom while we have it."

It feels like I'm in some alternate reality as I take a few steps toward the forest. Like I'm not controlling my own body. Being locked underground in one room for so long has driven me crazy. But now that I'm free, I'm driven crazy by paranoia.

Something about this situation doesn't seem right. It doesn't add up. But I can't argue with a walk outside, so I find myself leading Peeta through the trees, deeper and deeper into the forest.

"Feels nice to be out here." He says, trying to lighten my ultimately dim mood.

"It does." I agree, taking a deep breath.

If I would just allow myself to calm down a little, I would be able to enjoy the smell of pine, the sound of leaves crunching under Peeta's heavy, uneven footfalls. These are the small things that usually make my life a happier place, but I find myself unable to latch onto any one emotion at this time.

"Why do you keep looking back there?" Peeta asks, his voice too loud in the silence of the forest. I don't know what he means at first, but as I look over my shoulder once more, I realize that I've been doing it constantly, from the time we crossed into the trees.

"Making sure those stupid guards aren't following." I mutter, knowing I'm horrible at lying.

"Hey." Peeta comes to a stop and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him. "Settle down, okay? You're worrying me."

"You're always worried about me." I sigh, but let him pull me into a gentle kiss.

"I missed having privacy." He whispers, pecking me on the nose. I can't help but loosen up a bit.

"Well, I wouldn't consider this privacy. But I'd much rather have a bunch of squirrels watching, than a bunch of body builders." I run my fingers through Peeta's hair, knotting them tightly in his curls before pulling his face back to mine

I've gotten many feelings when Peeta kisses me. Electricity, elation, light-headedness. But there was a completely different sensation in this kiss. Like fireworks, going off inside my skull.

I try to ignore it, but it only gets stronger, each burst sending pain through my body. I pull away from Peeta, my eyes opening to nothing but white.

Panic wells up inside of me, and I begin shaking so hard that I have to fall into Peeta for support. But he's not there, and instead I fall flat on my face, into the pine needles and dirt. I blink rapidly, trying to regain my vision, but all I see is constant fireworks, like the bright obnoxious flashing of a camera going off every half-second.

I squeeze my eyes shut and my fists clench around dirt as I feel my heartbeat noticeably speeds up. My breaths are shallow and fast.

I know in the deepest pit of my stomach that I'm going to die. This is what dying feels like.

I begin to accept the fact that my life is over, almost relieved that I can finally get away from all of this overbearing drama.

For a moment, all I feel is peace.

My hands stretch out to be in a more comfortable position, but my fingers stop when they hit something.

Hair. Short, curly hair.

And all I can think about in the few moments of consciousness that I have left is _Peeta. Peeta is dead too._

* * *

><p><em> There are two children. Beautiful, youthful children with their mother's gorgeous features, and their father's optimistic, happy attitudes. <em>

_ I feel like I've known them my whole life, yet I can't put a name on their faces. It's almost as if they're nameless. What kind of mother doesn't name her children?_

_ I decide to call the girl Ember, and the boy Coal, after their mother's fiery reputation. Ember for the peace after a great fire. Coal for the beginning of something great._

_ This is not a dream I'm unfamiliar with. I've had it many times._

_ The two children run through the meadow, oblivious to any bad in the world. Oblivious _to_ the world._

_ Every time I have this dream there's someone next to me, holding my hand and playing with my hair, or calling the names of his loving children. _

_ But this time I'm alone._

_ As I watch the playing children slowly begin to fade, as if they're a hologram instead of real, beautiful, living creatures. I scream and run for them, but I find myself just as translucent, unable to take them into my ghostly arms._

_ I'm fading away. _

_ I'm dying._

* * *

><p>I awaken to find myself dead.<p>

Or does that even make sense? If I'm dead, how can I be awake? How can I dream?

I must still be alive.

And that means… "Peeta!"

**((A/N Yes, yes. I know. Cliffy. But I'm pretty sure you can guess what's coming next... :) Review!))**


	33. Chapter 33

**((A/N Hey ya'll. Sorry it's been, like, three weeks... But I'm here now! And no, this story is NOT over yet... Muahaha. Happy reading :) Review por** **favor!** [that means please]**))**

In my short lifetime I have stood face-to-face with mutant demon dogs, survived ultimately fatal explosions, had a bullet shot through my leg, jumped off a tree twenty feet in the air, and went up against a whole caste system of trigger-happy clown-resembling idiots. So yes, it both severely pisses me off, and makes me feel like an idiotic baboon when a few feet of rope can keep me from escaping a makeshift prison.

"Peeta!" is the first word that passes through my lips after my unconsciousness. "Peeta!"

A dramatic groan from across the dimly lit room makes my heart stop, and then begin again a thousand times faster. I don't know where I am.

I lick my cracked lips and clear my throat before I say anything else. _Think of something intimidating to say. Something that will tell this psychopath that you're not afraid, _I tell myself. _Something like, 'You got a problem, bub?'_

_ 'Bub?' Really? You watch too many old movies._

_ I barely watch any TV! I'm too busy running for my life!_

_Just say something intimidating!_

"He-hello?" my voice is a high-pitched squeak. I'm so quiet, I don't even know if the mystery person across the room can hear me.

_Way to be intimidating, Katniss! I'm so proud of you._ My internal voice spits sarcastically.

I roll my eyes at myself before I can even wonder if that's a mark of pure insanity. It probably is. But mental stability is the least of my problems at this point in time.

"Would you _shut up_ over there?" it's a girl's voice. Vaguely familiar. "I mean, come on. 'Peeta! Peeta!' Ugh. It's pathetic." Her imitation of my voice sets me on edge.

On edge like I have been, since my explosion of a wedding day. The day that she literally blew the best day of my life up in my face.

"Lina." It's not meant for her to hear. It's a quiet, almost silent breath that carries her name through my open lips. I'm not sure I could've gotten any louder if I tried, considering I now sit in a stunned, horror-filled silence.

Lina Malone, the tiny, maybe-thirteen girl that had seemed so innocent, now has me hog-tied and thrown in the corner of some sketchy building. How the _hell_ could that happen?

The memories of right before my abduction flood into my mind, and I suck in a sharp breath. The moment we let our guard down, she was there. Waiting.

A chill runs down my spine. A shake rocks through my whole being, and with it I manage to say, "Peeta?" loud enough for her to hear.

"Peeta this, Peeta that. Just to shut you up, I guess I'll let you know what happened to the idiot." There's rustling, a sound like the crumpling of newspaper, and then I see her silhouette. She walks towards me in a casual manner, as if we're two buddies out for tea.

My stomach rolls in stress-induced nausea.

"I'm relatively small, as you can tell." She's in front of me now, squatting so that we're eye to eye. "So I couldn't carry the big guy. But you… you're skinny as hell. You must weigh no more than ninety pounds. I threw you over my shoulder and took off." She smiles, her teeth a crooked white in the shadows. "Left _Peeta_ there. I'm sure he's worrying his pretty little head off, seeing as to you've been gone for three days now. He looked-"

_"Three days?"_ I suck in a sharp breath.

"Yeah. Whatever I stole from that doctor guy really worked. Like chloroform on steroids." She chuckles and then stands, her full height no more than 5' 3".

"How old are you?" I ask before my mind processes what I'm saying.

"Does it matter?" she questions. Then she sighs, "Fifteen, if you'll believe it."

"What…?" I pause, trying to steady my breathing. "What do you want with me?"

"So many questions!" she groans in disgust, her head falling back on her shoulder to look at the ceiling, as if it pains her for me to be so boring. "Truth is, honey, What I _want _with you is revenge."

"I didn't do anything-"

"Shut up. You're as innocent as a murderer."

"I'm as innocent as you."

"Now you're catching on. But really, I don't want revenge on you. I want revenge on your hunky hubby."

"Peeta."

"Goodness you say his name a lot."

"Why?"

"Probably because you're in love with him." She shrugs innocently.

"I meant why Peeta? What did he do to you?" I know the answer already. But I'm dying to hear her side of the story.

"He ruined my family! Our whole lives!" her voice holds more rage than any fifteen year old girl's should ever hold.

"You ruined his life as well."

"But he got over it. He can't get over it. It's not even." Her eyes blaze in the darkness.

"Is balance more important than human life?"

"Balance is the only thing that brings peace!" she's breathing heavily now, provoked by my arguing. "I don't have to put up with your obnoxious banter. Do you want food or not?"

I shake my head. The rising nausea in my stomach makes me doubt whether I could even keep water down. "What I want is to know what's going on."

Her next groan of disgust is sharp and animalistic, like she's some kind of demonic jaguar. It takes a lot not to flinch away from her rampage. "I told you what's going on, you idiotic… idiot!" Her anger seems to have taken the edge off her intelligence and put a lack on her word choice.

"I want to know-"

"You're the bait!" she screams wildly. This time I do flinch away. Her psychotic outbursts have me seriously freaked out.

I've dealt with crazy people many times before. My mother's patients, Wiress, even Peeta for a while. But their craziness was on a whole different spectrum of lunacies. They were having internal battles with themselves, a part of them always striving to do the right thing. Lina is an entirely different story. There's no hint of sanity in her expression.

"The… bait?" I manage to mumble.

"Yes, dearie. You're the damsel in distress, the one Peeta will fight for no matter his circumstance. He'll come to get you, and when he does that I can…"

"You can do what? He's, like, a foot taller than you, has almost a hundred pounds on you, and has gone through forty-something people to keep me safe."

"Maybe so." She croons, and then turns to walk back across the room.

"You're a lunatic." I call into the darkness. Maybe not my smartest move, considering I'm practically blind and immobile. But it slips out anyways.

"Maybe so, maybe so…" she sings quietly, making her own song out of the words. "Maybe so, maybe, I might just be crazy. But Katniss is the tied up one, so that means that I have won. Maybe so, maybe so…"

**((P.S. I don't know if you guys have heard about the big shooting in Aurora, CO. But I know some people that were injured in it, so PRAYERS ARE APPRECIATED~ 3 ))**


	34. Chapter 34

**((A/N Whew! Another Chapter down for today! I'm working my butt off, because you guys deserve it :) and GUESS WHAT? This Chapter is PEETA'S POINT OF VIEW! Surprise :D Review! :))) **[Also. When it says _Two Days Earlier,_ it means Two Days before the last Chapter, in which Katniss was with Lina. Same with _One Day Earlier, _and_ Current Day_, which is the same day as Chapter 33 took place. I'm sorry if that's confusing... :)

_**POV - Peeta**_

_Two Days Earlier_

Have you ever had that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first wake up? Like something's wrong, something's missing… but you just can't put your finger on it because you're still groggy. So you sit on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands, trying to figure out why you feel that way. But then you realize it's not your bed you're sitting on, but a hospital bed? So you freak out and lose control of your mind while going on an angry rampage.

That hasn't happened to you?

Oh… Well it happened to me thirty minutes ago. And after sedation and a few stitches in my left hand, which I'd somehow broken a window with, I've finally returned to my healthy state of mind. Sort of.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles are as white as the walls surrounding me.

"I know it's hard for you to process-"

"No, really. What? I didn't hear you the first time." I don't know why I'm being restrained. But I let the two guards on either side of me grip my biceps tightly, to keep me from running off to who-knows-where.

"Mr. Mellark… what do you remember?"

"From when?" I ask, sighing slightly.

"From before you got knocked out." He holds up something that looks like a dart, as if I'm supposed to know what it is. A drip of something falls off the tip, and a red splatter skirts across the white tile floor.

"I remember… I'm sorry, I don't remember anything, actually. What is that supposed to be?" I motion at the dart with my head, and then have to blow my hair out of my eyes. It's getting too long. I make a mental note to cut it when I get the chance.

"It's a weapon, used by Lina Malone. It kept you unconscious for hours."

"How'd that little thing knock me out?" I eye the man skeptically.

"Yours contained something called Ether. It's an intense anesthetic."

"Mine? There were others?" I ask, suddenly intrigued.

"You don't remember?"

"Look, sir." I raise my eyebrows, "The last thing I remember, I was teaching an art class in District Two."

* * *

><p><em>One Day Earlier<em>

So, apparently the mixture of the Ether and the leftover Tracker Jacker venom in my system mixed together to create some sort of memory loss serum that made its way to my brain.

They've tried to fill me in on everything, but it's too hard to believe. They said something about District Four… I've never stayed longer than a few hours in District Four.

I shot Katniss with a bullet?

Speaking of Katniss… _I'm married to Katniss Everdeen_? I mean, of course that'd be fine. That'd be a dream come true, honestly. But I'd like to remember how I had proposed. No one seems to know.

I think all of this new information has watered down the fact that Katniss has been kidnapped by someone named Lina Malone. Of course I'm worried. I've been so worried that I didn't sleep last night, contributing to my dazed state.

I'd demanded that they send out a search party immediately, with me as the lead, but they'd laughed in my face. So now I'm stuck in my little room in District Thirteen with nothing to look at but a white wall, and a picture of Katniss and I on some beach I don't remember being to. The lieutenant in charge of watching me told me that was the day Katniss and I stayed at a little hut in District Four, where we shared our postponed honeymoon.

And you'd think the boy who was in love with this girl since kindergarten would at least remember _something_ from that night. But no. Once more, my mind has turned against me.

But the picture is getting me through this, helping me cope with the situation. It's just hard, falling asleep on a train home from District Two, and waking up months later in some completely screwed up world where my supposed 'wife' is kidnapped by the girl who supposedly 'blew up' our wedding.

I got more details than I'd needed on my wedding day. Apparently these same men who are guarding me were there, and witnessed it first-hand.

They described the day with words ranging from 'gorgeous' and 'perfection' to 'devastation' and 'death'.

The thought of the girl who caused that having Katniss locked up somewhere_ severely_ ticks me off. Not knowing where she is, or what's happening to her… well, let's just say I've banged my head against the concrete wall enough to make a mark. On the wall.

* * *

><p><em>Current Day<em>

I'm in literal pain from worrying so much. I think the crease marks on my forehead from how hard I'm thinking might just be permanent.

I'm_ finally _off my meds_. _The past two days, the doctors have been sedating me, keeping me calm so that I don't… well, do what I did today.

Currently, I'm stomping through the forest, kicking over as many rocks as I can. A machine gun is strapped to my back and (although I have no idea how) I have enough pent up anger to use it.

I have no clue as to where I'm headed, but I know that wherever Katniss is, it's close. By the guards' descriptions, Lina couldn't have dragged Katniss's deadweight body very far. Maybe a few miles. Ten tops.

I wish I'd had the sense to wait for some back-up, but those bimbos wanted to wait another entire night just to _plan_ her rescue. I was done waiting.

I'm sure the nurses wish they'd kept me in that dazed state for a little while longer.

I know I'm being irrational and stupid, but this is Katniss we're talking about. Breaking a guards nose and stealing his weapons seem like nothing when I think about what she could be going through.

What _could_ she be going through?

Has she been starved? Tortured? Kept unconscious?

Could she be…?

I vigorously shake my head, willing those horrible thoughts to go away.

If only Katniss could see me now. I'm pessimistic _and_ unsure of myself. Two things I have never been.

I force every bad image from my mind, and focus on what I _know._

And I _know_ that Katniss can take care of herself… at least until I can save her.

This time, I get to be the hero.


	35. Chapter 35

**((A/N NOTE: This chapter is supposed to feel different from the others... So if you think it's too weird or strangely written, I'm sorry haha, but I'll be going back to the witty-romance in the next chapter. Also, if this chapter sort of confuses you... I'm sure if you reread it, you'll catch on :) Reviews are awesome, guys! **_P.S. There's a "contest" at the bottom of this story. The first five people to Review with the correct answer to the question will be sent a SPECIAL chapter... Details_ below.**))**

_**Katniss POV**_

I'm happy. Elated. Ecstatic, even.

Other than the day Peeta and I were married, this just might be the best day of my life. If you can even call it a day.

It's three o'clock in the morning, my hand in Peeta's, and we're home. _HOME!_

After months of running, we can finally go back to being plain old District Twelvers.

Peeta gives my hand a squeeze, and I look over at him. His hair is cut shorter than the last time I'd seen him. It's choppy in some places, giving me the idea that he'd done the job himself. But he's still absolutely stunning. His bright smile is illuminated by the moonlight, and his eyes… Those eyes that make me want to just melt… they smile just as clearly as his lips do.

"You ready?" I watch his lips move as he speaks, and am almost mesmerized at his perfection.

I can't speak – I'm too stunned – So instead I just nod once.

He chuckles quietly, an almost eeriness to the silence cut by his laugh.

He presses his lips to my forehead, and then gives me a quick kiss on the lips. "I know how you feel."

I press my forehead to his and close my eyes, taking a deep breath, "I love you." My voice is quiet, breathy even.

"I love you, too." He does that half-smile that drives me crazy.

He wraps his arm around my waist, and we begin our walk to the porch.

This feels otherworldly, as if time has slowed to the rate of molasses. It's so unreal to me, the idea of being a hostage one day, and then home the next. I think the dramatic change has sent me into shock.

The moment I take the first step through the door, I know I'm not dreaming. It's all too real: the warmth of the crackling fireplace and the way the flames bounce, making every shadow dance.

"We're home." I mutter quietly, "Peeta, we're home!" suddenly my shock is absorbed, and I'm infatuated with excitement. I break free from his arms and dance around the living room with the bouncing shadows. "This is so crazy... I mean, un-crazy… Peeta!" I feel my heart flip over and over in my chest, "We're home!"

He still stands where I left him, but he's laughing along, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Katniss, you need sleep."

"And why do you say that?" I hop onto the couch, falling backwards into the cushions.

Peeta walks over and bends down, his smile close to mine, "Because you're exhausted, and I can tell."

"What about you? I laid there for days, doing nothing. You saved me! You should be more tired!"

"I wouldn't call getting knocked out 'saving' you."

"You led the guards to where I was. If they hadn't knocked you out before going into the cave, Lina would've shot you."

"I still don't think lying face-down and drooling into the ground qualifies as being a hero." He sighs, sitting on the couch next to me and pulling me onto his chest.

"Peeta?" I ask, and he raises his eyebrows as if to ask 'What, darling?'. "Do you remember that painting?"

"Which one?" he inquires, wrapping his arm around me.

"The one with the two children. You painted it for me."

"I hadn't finished it…" his eyebrows pull together. I can tell this whole memory-loss thing is hard for him. Losing the most eventful year of your life from your memories has to be tough. The entire hovercraft ride home, I'd been explaining everything I could remember to him. He's quite happy that we're Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, but he's devastated that he couldn't remember our binding kiss.

"You did finish it." I tell him, "I looked when you weren't ready to show me."

"What did you say?" he asks, reading my expression perfectly.

"I got really mad at you. I said I never wanted kids." I yawn, stretching out next to his body.

"Oh." Is his only reply. I can't tell what he's thinking, which I can usually do.

"Peeta. We finally have the chance to live normal lives."

"Yes, we do." He buries his face in my hair.

"And have a normal family." I say. He doesn't say anything, so I continue, "The only reason I didn't want a family was because I was scared I wouldn't be a good mother."

"You would be."

"We've had this conversation before." I bite my lip, "I'm not scared anymore, Peeta."

He looks me in the eye, trying to understand what I'm saying. His eyes search mine for a moment, and then his lips part slightly, "You're not scared?"

I shake my head, and then settle it into the curve of his neck, "You'll be the best father any kid could ask for."

We fall asleep in seconds.

* * *

><p><strong>((Contest: The first five people to answer the question correctly will be PM'd a special chapter written in GALE'S POV. It's about how he moves on from Katniss... If you wanna read it, here's the question!<br>**Question: _What is the name of the boy who is killed by Peeta's 'assassin'? _

Hint: He's the one who volunteers at the Bakery.

**For me to be able to PM you, you cannot Review with your answer as a visitor, you must have a PENNAME, and must be SIGNED IN as that name.))**


	36. Chapter 36

**((A/N About the contest... Yep, the answer was Jimmy Wright! But, as I'd said... Only the first five people would get the special chapter. If ya'll still _really_ want it, PM me the answer to this, and I'll send it right over. [**What names does Katniss give to the children in her dreams?**] This is only valid until Sunday, July 29th. Anyways, HERE'S a super-duper long chapter for everyone! :D Love you guys! Review!))**

From the moment I open my eyes, I know today is the day that our week of sanctuary comes to an end. It was a great week; one of nothing but soft kisses and mugs of hot chocolate and fireplaces. One where I got to be _myself_, no one else. Not someone on the run, or someone hiding, or someone who acts tolerable in front of the camera.

No, I got to be my stubborn, obnoxious, sarcastic self; the self that Peeta adores.

I take a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, rolling over to find him face down in a pillow. I've come to learn that he sleeps like this when he's having a good dream.

I kind of just sit there and stare it him for a few minutes, watching the rise and fall of his torso that alerts me he's still breathing. One of his hands hangs off the edge of the bed, and the other is stuffed under his pillow.

For some reason I have the urge to reach out and touch his hair, run my fingers through it. His curls are perfect, no matter which side of his head sleeps on. I'm sure my own hair is sticking out in every direction, causing me to resemble some sort of muttation.

My touch causes him to stir, and he rolls onto his side to face me. His eyes open and the moment they focus on me he breaks into a smile. "Some people would find that creepy."

I'm not sure if he means me watching him sleep or my crazy bed-hair, but I'm pulled into a good-morning kiss before I can ask.

"Sleep okay? When did you wake up?" he asks, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

"A few minutes ago. I slept well."

"So did I." he grins, "You were in my dream."

"You were in mine." I answer, forcing a smile. I'm not going to tell him about my nightmare. There's no reason to worry him.

Yet I can see his eyebrows twitch in concern, and I know he can detect my act.

That's something that I can't get over. How he can lie so utterly perfectly, but every time I spout a tiny fib, he knows about it. I've filed through all the possibilities of how he could know, lied to myself in the mirror to see if I do anything physically. This idea came from Prim.

When we'd first gotten Buttercup, Prim's old hideous cat that know is the unofficial mascot of District Twelve, she'd once come home with scratches covering her entire hand. I'd asked her how it had happened, and she bit her cheek as she answered, "I dropped my necklace in the bushes and had to dig it out." The first lie she'd ever told me, and all because she didn't want me to know Buttercup had clawed her fingers.

I could tell from then on when she told a fib (which was rarely), because every time she'd chew on the inside of her cheek.

But when I practiced in front of the mirror, I could find no such sign. So I'd come to the conclusion that Peeta can read my mind.

"How do you do that?" I ask, deciding once and for all that I'm going to get to the bottom of this mysterious boy.

"Do what?" he pulls himself out of bed and wanders over to his closet.

"How do you know when I lie?" I watch him as he pulls a sweater over his head.

He turns to me with a smirk on his face, "You really think I'd tell you? Come on, Katniss. We all have our quirks."

"You've told me before. I just can't remember."

"Did I? I don't remember that." He sighs, retreating to the bathroom where I can hear the water running as he brushes his teeth.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and search through my own clothes. I throw together a random outfit, since I know the moment I walk out of my home today I'll be redressed and prettied up. "Are you ready to be all dolled up again?" Peeta returns into the room, coming over to me and wrapping his arms around my waist as I braid my hair.

I make a disgusted sound in response, but can't help but smile. My prep team has become so much more bearable over the months, even without Cinna's help. They do a great job on altering my appearance. Which is okay with me now, because I might as well look good if I'm going to act like myself. There has to be some balance.

"In my opinion, you're gorgeous as it is. Right now." Peeta kisses my cheek and I laugh.

"Tell that to Octavia, and she'll have you shipped back to the mental ward."

"As long as you come with me." He chuckles, "I'll go start coffee."

Coffee was an acquired taste for me. It was too bitter at first, but when Peeta started adding milk and sugar, it didn't taste so bad. Now I drink it because I'm in desperate need of caffeine.

I brush my teeth before hopping down the steps after my husband.

It's so strange, being married. Just three years ago, I'd sworn to myself I would never wed. And now I'm probably the happiest girl in the world, alongside the 'luckiest man in the universe', as Peeta referred to himself as.

I'd pointed out that his luck was nonexistent when they chose his name from the thousands of others at the 74th reaping, and that the Quarter Quell wasn't the highlight of either of our lives, but he continues to remind me that he would never have said a word to me before them. Without our horrific pasts, we wouldn't be in this glorious present.

He hands me a mug of steaming hot coffee, just the way I like it. Four spoons of milk and five sugar cubes. I know, I know. It's ridiculous. I can't count how many times Peeta has pulled the 'Would you like some coffee with your milk and sugar?' joke on me. I just can't stand how he drinks his: Black.

"Think they're out there already?" he asks, motioning with his head towards the front door. All of our curtains are drawn, blocking out the outside world.

"I think they've been out there since five o'clock this morning." I mutter.

"It was a nice break." He says dramatically, as if this is the end of our lives. If only.

I nod in agreement, and he grins. He pulls me to him, and we kiss for a few moments before he pulls away. "Ready?"

I nod sharply, "Ready."

He sets his coffee cup down and strides over to the front door. His hand lingers on the doorknob. "Whatever happens, Katniss, just know that I love you." His voice is deep and serious, and I laugh at him so hard that I have to set my mug down and hug myself to keep from cracking a rib.

"Love you too. See you on the other side." I give him a wink between spurts of laughter.

As he turns the knob, I can see him smiling, his act blown.

But the next thing I know, all I can see is Capitol hairstyles and flashes of light as cameras go off. It's like a flood of reporters have completely permeated our home. If I have a personal bubble, it was popped within two seconds of the door being opened.

They fight to ask me questions, their inquiries practically being screamed in my ears. I don't respond at first, all I do is blink. Then I begin laughing once more as I realize Peeta's and my dramatic moment was nothing compared to this. I feel like I'm drowning in person soup.

"Mrs. Mellark, can you please tell us… – And how did you feel about… - So where is…?" No matter how hard I concentrate, I cannot listen to one complete thought without being distracted by another. For the first few minutes it's hilarious to me, their reactions to our month long disappearance. But after ten minutes has gone by and the volume level has done nothing but increase, I'm beginning to get annoyed.

I wade through the crowd, trying to spot Peeta. I figure it shouldn't be too hard, us being the only two dressed normally, but I soon find that the bright colors of the Capitol are practically blinding when so many of them are mushed together and moving around.

"Peeta?" I call out. But I can barely hear my own voice over the roar of reporters.

I'm stunned for a few moments, as horror washes over me. I think about what it would be like to be stuck in this mess forever, and claustrophobia begins to smother me. Of course I know it's dramatic, but at this moment, everything and everyone is being dramatic.

Haymitch comes and saves me just in time. Somehow he's found me, and I feel him dragging me through the crowd by my elbow. He reaches our couch, and stands up on it. I'm about to protest, since his shoes are muddy, but I doubt he'd hear me.

"SHUT UP!" His voice is so loud that I can feel the ground shaking. Or maybe that's just me shaking, because his outburst catches me off guard. Apparently it catches all the others off guard as well, because somehow, by some miracle, the crowd _does_ shut up. "Now, in this mess, you're not going to get anything out of anyone, so if you all want what you came here for, then just shut up!"

"Haymitch…" I start to pull him off the couch, but he rips his arms away from me.

"Look, sweetheart, I know what I'm doing." And I believe him, because every eye and camera in the room is turned on him. He turns back to them, "Every person in here, you get to ask _one_ question only. We're going to do this in a nice, orderly fashion, because if not, someone's going to get hurt." And that's where Haymitch loses his dignity, because he loses his balance and falls straight onto his face, where he lays sprawled out on our floor.

"He's right. If you'd ever-so-kindly line up in a single-file line, Katniss and I will be glad to take a question from each of you." Peeta says, loudly enough for everyone to hear. I want to yell back, 'Speak for yourself!', but I keep my mouth shut. "We'll sit on that couch there. And the people that aren't asking can stand off to the side, and take notes. Whatever. But we are _not_ going to do this the way you've all been trying to do it, because it's obviously not working. Either you do it our way, or you get no answers what-so-ever."

The crowd reacts immediately, lining up and whipping out their pens and papers.

I look over at Peeta with a proud grin, and he gives me a subtle wink back.

Haymitch pulls himself off the floor and slurs, "Wait… What?" before staggering to our bathroom to puke something up.

And so the student becomes the master.


	37. Chapter 37

**((A/N Hey guys! Sorry I didn't update yesterday... I meant to, but with the Olympics and all... teehee :) Anyways, SO I'm thinking about writing another fanfic [hold your applause], around the concept of my 'special chapter'. For those of you who didn't know, it's a Gale/Madge thing haha. I wouldn't start it for a week or two, but once it's up, would you guys read it? Just wondering :) Read on and Review!))**

Without being dramatic, by the time the interviews end I'm exhausted. Despite the fact that I woke up not four hours ago. And the fact that Peeta's done ninety percent of the talking. And the fact that I've just been curled up on the couch.

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm not exhausted (referring to sleep deprivation), I'm just tired of these Capitol people and their funny accents.

As the last one files out of our house, he ducks to avoid the doorframe even though he's shorter than me. It's his purple hair that adds another foot to his height that he's worried about. I have to smirk as he bends his neck in extraordinary ways to fit into the car that's waiting for him.

"They're an odd bunch." Peeta laughs, running his fingers through his hair as he does when he's relieved.

"Says the boy who painted himself into the ground, to the girl who his literally been a human torch." I give him a slight wink before disappearing into the kitchen. I'm famished, and Haymitch has my last slab of meat plastered to his brand new black eye.

"Well, what would you like?" Peeta comes up behind me as I pick my way through the cabinets, searching for something suitable for consumption.

"Lamb stew." I mutter under my breath, severely missing the delicacy I have found nowhere but in the Capitol. And the arena, but that's not a candidate for my interest at this point in time.

"Lucky you." Peeta breaks into a huge grin, and I can't help but wonder what's going through his mind.

"What?" I ask as he stares at me with a stupid grin.

"I'll be right back." He kisses me on the cheek before literally skipping out the door. Two seconds later his head sticks back in and scans the living room before skipping back inside, wrapping his arm around Haymitch, and skipping back out again. Of course the last 'skip' wasn't really a skip, considering Haymitch is letting Peeta support his deadweight. They look more like a pair scrambling for the door during an exorcism. Flailing limbs and out-of-place bursts of laughter.

I let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. My fingertips drum against the countertop as I await their return, completely confused.

Mid-drum my fingers freeze and eyes widen. Suddenly I find myself scrambling to find a calendar, digging through boxes that haven't been unpacked yet. Moving in with Peeta was a long-term goal that happened within ten minutes of arriving home.

I find a calendar. It's one that the Capitol must have given us, because I know neither Peeta nor I would ever own a male swim-suit model based _anything_, let alone a calendar. I'll admit that I have an irrational fear of Speedos.

I flip it open and count the days since we arrived home.

Eight.

We were dropped off in District Twelve on April 30th.

Peeta and Haymitch burst through the front door, singing terribly off-key, but in a heartwarming way. In Peeta's hands, he carries some deliciously familiar smelling food, covered in a silver dome. They march into the kitchen, setting the platter on the table, and finish their song facing me. I crack up, opening my arms to both of them.

I'm surrounded by arms that care about me, something I find very rare in my life. And I adore it, the feeling of being truly loved, instead of my Capitol admirers.

My own stomach gets in the way of our embrace, the rumbling making Haymitch laugh. He's suddenly recovered from his hangover, causing me to wonder if it all was an act. But as he pulls a flask from his jacket, I know it wasn't.

"Want some lunch, birthday girl?" he asks gleefully.

"I do." I'm lead to my seat, where Peeta takes the lid off of the platter he'd brought in. The wonderful aroma fills my nose, and my smile grows bigger. Lamb stew.

Peeta and Haymitch try to make a conversation during our meal but I just respond with nods and grunts, my mouth never empty enough to form words.

When I'm finished stuffing my face I lean back in my chair and look down at my bulging stomach. I wonder to myself if this is what it feels like to be pregnant. My mother never told me; at least I'd never heard it from her, because every time she'd mention pregnancy I'd flee from the room. But curiosity floods my mind, and I pat my abdomen.

"I'd better get going. Effie's going to have a fit when she sees what I've done." Haymitch stands up from his seat. I realize he's referring to his face-plant earlier this morning. Every camera was turned on him, so I'd imagine they have a recording of his fall from every angle, and in every clarity possible. The thought brings a smile to my face.

He excuses himself from the table and I'm silent until I hear the door click shut.

"Happy birthday!" Peeta exclaims for the fourth time today.

"I cannot believe you remembered."

"How could I forget, Katniss?" he chuckles, and I realize he'd never forget my birthday, no matter how much ether and venom mixed into his system.

It's the same way with me. I'm pretty good with remembering dates, but Peeta's is etched into my brain. October 12th. He shares a birthday with my father.

I have a reason to remember his, but today for the past nineteen years has been a normal day for all of us. I'd never gotten so pampered on my birthday before.

My mother had once tried to bake, but the cake fell apart in her hands. That day, she was glad she had followed the road to the infirm, instead of the hungry.

After we've cleaned off the table and fixed ourselves up, Peeta asks me what I want to do for my 'special day'. Immediately I know what I want to do.

I order him to grab all of the blankets and food we have, and stuff it into my game bag. He seems confused, but he obeys my orders as I watch with a smile.

"Katniss?" he looks up at me as he bends over to fill the large burlap sack.

"What?" I bat my eyelashes innocently.

Peeta raises an eyebrow at me, and snorts. "Never mind."

I smile smugly as he stuffs blankets into the bag, making it bulge with contents.

When it's full to the top with various cloths and foods, he throws it over his shoulder and asks, "So… now what?"

"Follow me." I march out the door, allowing myself to whistle simple tunes to show my happiness.

Peeta follows without question as I stroll through the District, making my way to the nearest gate.

After the Capitol was overthrown and the rebels had won, every person was allowed to travel to any District of their choice. But the fences around each District were kept up, as a defense mechanism against wild animals. However, gates were incorporated into the fences, so that going out into the woods was no longer a challenge that included scurrying under barbed wire or climbing extremely tall trees. Now, the most difficult part of exiting the District was lifting the latch on the gate.

Peeta doesn't ask questions as we trudge through the forest, but it might be because he's winded. The bag on his back looks pretty heavy.

"Give me that." I say about two miles into the woods. I begin to tug the bag off his back.

"No, I got it." Peeta refuses my offer to help. His grip tightens on the sack.

"Peeta." I don't loosen my grip any more than he does. I know I'll lose in a game of tug-of-war against him, but I'm not going down without a fight.

"Katniss." He mocks me with a playful poke to my ribs. I refuse to smile, although my anger is fake. I'm sure he knows this.

"For my birthday, I want to carry the bag." I have to grit my teeth to keep from breaking my composure.

"That's the worst present ever." He chuckles. "How about this. You can carry the bag, if I can carry you!" he drops the load off his back and swoops me over his shoulder in one quick movement. I pound my fists against his back as he holds me over his shoulder, and my kicks that are meant to unbalance him don't even make him stumble.

Eventually he lets me stand back on my own two feet, and I see that his face is bright red with laughter. I cross my arms, staring at him in fake annoyance. Then my cover breaks and I'm laughing with him. It's like I can't _not_ smile around this boy.

"So we're agreed?" he says, his eyes sparkling.

I nod once, and even though we haven't spoken it aloud, we have come to a silent agreement. We will both carry the bag.

It's things like this, things that shouldn't make me so happy yet still manage to do so, that keep me smiling the entire way to our destination. Although the journey takes twice as long because Peeta isn't surefooted in the least, it seems like it's only a few minutes later when we get there.

I stop at the end of the trail, which causes Peeta to bump into me.

"Whoops, sorry Kat…." He trails off, and I can tell he's in awe.

He has the same reaction I had when I first came here. I think it's impossible not to be amazed.

The water level seems higher than usual, making everything around it a vivid green. Reflecting the clear dusk sky, the water is rippling with colors from bright blue to the orange of the sunset.

"Where…? What…? Who…?" Peeta stutters. His awe-stricken reaction brings yet another smile to my face.

My cheeks are starting to hurt.


	38. Chapter 38

**((A/N I'm so sorry I haven't updated lately. I kind of grounded myself until all my summer homework was done haha... But I'm back! OKAY, so here are some Updates for ya'll... 1) I've begun a new fanfic called For Keeps. It's based off of Gale/Madge post-Mockingjay :) Check it out if you'd like, I have three chapters uploaded so far. 2) I'm not going to be updating every other day like I usually do [other than these pesky breaks], because school is starting and ALSO I'm part of a 24/24 collab story :) HOORAY! 3) I'm terribly, horribly sorry to say that this story is almost over D: I'm thinking of writing maybe five more chapters, but after that I'm going to begin a PJO fanfic! :D ANYWAYS, Enjoy this Chapter. _**Spoiler** _I was in a creepy mood today haha:) Review!))**

The lake.

There are so many memories I have of this place, from my father to Bonnie and Twill. And now, of Peeta as well.

I curl up to him next to the fire he'd built, my damp hair still running down my spine, giving me chills. He wraps his arms around me, and surrounds us both in a heavy blanket.

I have to admit that, despite the cold, today was one of the best days of my life. Swimming, kisses, and storytelling filled the day. Cuddling and eating fill the evening.

I realized today that I'm a completely different person around Peeta. He makes me forget the bad things in life, causes me to focus on the beautiful things I'd never had the decency to see before. My years prior to meeting him were a muddle of depression, starvation, and absolute loneliness. My only consolation from life then were arrows. How sad is that?

"I wanted to kill myself." I bubble suddenly. I'm sure it's no shock to anyone, but I've never said the words out loud. I feel as though it's necessary to confess it to someone, and that someone should be Peeta.

"What?" Peeta shifts beside me, turning to look me in the eyes. His eyebrows are knit together in worry, and he looks almost… angry.

"After I shot Coin, I was locked up in a room for what felt like forever. I didn't want to live. I had no reason to." I lick my lips and let my eyes close for a few moments, trying as hard as I can not to remember.

"Katniss, I…" Peeta trails off looking genuinely confused, which confuses me as well. Doesn't he know this already? He shakes his head, "They told me you were being kept in the hospital. Plutarch said you smashed your head against the wall when they were taking you away and had to get stitches and…" he shakes his head again, "I can't believe…"

I don't think I've ever seen Peeta stumble over his words so much.

"You didn't let me finish." I mumble quietly. "I had no reason to live until you came back to me. I just wanted to thank you for-"

"Don't." he whispers quietly. "Don't thank me."

I smile a little, and then lean into his lips. He kisses me back until I pull away laughing.

"What's so funny?" he chuckles at me. I let my head fall back on his shoulder, a wide smile spread across my face.

"I sort of just thanked you. In a way."

"Darn." Peeta sighs dramatically, "I guess I'll just have to repay the favor." His shoulder slips out from behind me, and I find myself on my back, staring up at the ceiling.

I wait for Peeta to reappear, lean down and kiss me or something of the sort, but instead nothing happens.

I prop myself up on my elbows and scan the small cabin, but he's nowhere to be found. I smile to myself and stand, tip-toeing towards the makeshift door that's been there for years. It's really only a thick beat-up quilt with a line of rocks stuffed inside to keep it in place.

I push it out of the way slowly, and then hop outside quickly, expecting him to be waiting for me. He's not.

The chilly air hits my face in an unexpected wave, and I breathe in shakily. My clothes are still damp, and the temperature makes them sticky with frost almost immediately.

"Peeta?" I call out, my breath making a thick cloud in front of me. How can it be so cold? I was swimming in a lake not two hours ago.

Of course the sky wasn't a menacingly dark gray two hours ago.

I hug myself against sharp whips of wind. The whole atmosphere feels surreal, compared to the warm cozy shelter a few steps behind me.

"Weird weather, isn't it?" I whip around to see Peeta leaning against the cabin's wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are pointed upwards, creating an eerie reflection in his bright blue eyes.

"The strangest." I walk over to him and accept his embrace, even though his eyes don't leave the sky.

"It's getting late." He sighs, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"Probably seven." I mutter. It's like the weather has sucked our personalities out along with the warmth of the afternoon.

"Katniss?"

"Hm?"

"Do you feel that?" Peeta asks, his voice hoarse.

And then I do feel it. And I instantly am on edge.

My skin feels like it's tightening over my ligaments, as if my bones are growing thicker. My face tingles slightly, and I reach up to touch it with fingertips soft as felt.

"What's going on?" I ask, dragging Peeta inside. I want to get back inside of the warm, calming cabin instead of being out in the freaky wilderness at the moment.

I pull away the quilt, and my breath catches in my throat when I see the transformation of my cabin.

The fire's gone, leaving the room dimly lit and as cold inside as it is out. There seems to be a gray tint to everything, even Peeta's skin. It looks as if it hasn't been inhabited in decades, other than our pile of blankets and food in the corner.

"Katniss." Peeta's voice is hoarse, and I turn to look at him. I scream when President Snow's eyes meet my own. Peeta is nowhere.

In that moment I know I'm dreaming, but it doesn't matter. The urgency seems real enough, and I can feel the blood freezing in my veins.

It's too real to be a dream.

But it is a dream!

I scream again as a sharp pain explodes inside my skull, causing me to fall to my knees and cover my ears.

Snow's puffy lips are pumping out streams of blood that run down his chin, neck, and then add to the ever-growing pool under his white shirt. I close my eyes and try to scream myself away, but it's as if my eyelids are transparent. I can see him walking towards me, squatting down and offering me his wrinkled hand.

I lash out with my legs, pushing myself away from Snow in a screaming thrash of panic.

"Katniss." He says again with Peeta's raspy voice. It echoes clearly through my head, as if I'm not covering my ears.

There is no escaping this dream.

The only thing left to do is fight back.

I crawl over towards the fireplace and my hands search through ash. My fingers touch something metal and I latch onto it, waiting for Snow.

When I feel, or rather smell, his warm breath behind me I swing my weapon around as hard as I can, hoping to get a good hit with the metal pole I used as a fire-poker a few minutes earlier.

It's aimed for his temple, and I'm hoping it's a lethal hit when it swings right through him.

What am I thinking, trying to impale a ghost in the head?

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice goes up as if in a question. Snow closes in on me, his face getting closer and closer until he's within kissing distance. I'm revolted by the idea of kissing his bloody, puffed up pink mouth. I try to cringe away, but I can't move.

"Still here. I'll always be here, Katniss."

And I'm screaming again, but this time I'm safe in bed, gathered into Peeta's arms, slowly rocking back and forth. His hand runs over my hair soothingly, and he's muttering something over and over. "Please wake up, please wake up, please wake up…"

I freeze, realizing I've been thrashing around. Peeta pulls his face back and looks me in the eye, his own rimmed with tears.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." I stutter, adrenaline still pumping through me. The scent of roses seems to have penetrated my nasal cavity. It's all I can do to hope it's not permanent.

"You were screaming for five minutes." Peeta covers his face in both hands and takes deep shaky breaths to steady himself. I see that he's shaking.

"Five minutes?" Usually I wake up on my first scream. The idea of being caught in a nightmare terrifies me.

Peeta gathers me into his arms again, and I'm about to protest, tell him I'm okay, and reassure him with a kiss, but then I realize he needs me to comfort him.

I imagine if Peeta had woken me up in the middle of the night, screaming, unable to wake up. The idea sends a shiver through me. I don't blame him for being worried.

"What happened?" he mutters quietly.

"I had a bad dream." I say stupidly.

"What happened in the dream?" Duh, Katniss. Duh.

"We were at the lake. But Snow was there, and you disappeared and it was really cold and I couldn't get away from him, even if I closed my eyes or covered my ears…" I say this all without taking a breath, and I bury my face in his chest, the horror fresh in my mind.

"He's dead." Peeta runs his hands up and down my spine comfortingly, still choking on his breath. "He's gone."

"He told me he was still here…" I choke quietly.

"He can't be, Katniss. President Snow is dead."

"You don't get it." I look up at him. It's no surprise he doesn't get it; it only just clicked in my own mind. "He didn't mean it literally. He'll always be here. In my dreams, in my head, imitating my loved ones, fighting for dominance. He's turning my own subconscious against me."

"Is that possible?" Peeta's watery eyes widen.

"He did it to you." I remind him.

"With venom and syringes." Peeta grimaces.

"He needed needles for you, Peeta." I swallow, "He's dead, and he's still messing with me."

"Hey, I'll help you get through this." He taps my forehead gently, "You're a lot stronger up here than I am."

I'm about to argue, but I don't feel like getting into a disagreement right now.

We try to fall back asleep, and I do doze off once. But I wake up yelling Prim's name, and Peeta has to comfort me back to sleep. He yawns, "Still here. I'll always be here, Katniss."

I don't get another wink of sleep that night.


	39. Chapter 39

**((A/N Okay! I've finally updated! Hooray! :D SO just so no one gets confused, this chapter skips ahead to the future. I know it's weird from the last chapter's ending to this, but it'll all make sense when this is over :) I love you guys! Review!))**

_Fifteen Years Later_

I guess it was inevitable. And why push it off even farther? I mean, we've been married for fifteen years now. We should have talked about this a while ago, to put it lightly.

Of course, the reason that we haven't is because I'm a stubborn obnoxious control freak. And I'm not afraid of admitting that anymore.

"When I was younger… when you were only one of my dreams… I would imagine what our kids would look like. Is that weird?" Peeta asks. His arms tighten around me, expecting me to jump out of his lap and scold him for bringing this up again. Instead, his idea gives birth to one of my own. What would our children look like? Curly dark hair? Wavy blonde? Light eyes for sure, since no one in either of our family's had brown eyes. "Katniss?"

"Sorry." I shake the thoughts from my head and find a smile on my face, "No. It's not weird."

He laughs, "You know, my brother found out about how much I liked you. He teased me constantly. Once I got so mad I punched him right in the nose, and from then on he never said another word about little Katniss Everdeen."

"Those were the days." I sigh.

"It's so strange, having my childhood dreams come true. Like I'm actually getting a pony for my birthday." He laughs, "What was your childhood dream, Katniss?"

I ponder it for a few moments. What _was_ my childhood dream? Did I even have one? "I guess my dream…" My real dream was to watch Prim grow up, to keep her safe. But I don't feel like bringing that up at the moment so instead I say, "It was to be the best hunter I could be."

"So, both of our dreams came true." Peeta nuzzles his face deeper into my hair, his breath sending a shiver down my spine.

"They say that once you fulfill a dream, you get a new one."

"And?"

"I think I have a new one." I smile even though he can't see.

"What's that, love?"

Suddenly I feel sick; but not a bad sick. The sick you feel when you're excited about doing something risky. Like adrenaline in your abdomen instead of your veins. "I want them, Peeta."

There's a pause and for a second of silence I'm afraid that he's changed his mind in the few moments I've waited to tell him. I'm about to speak when he picks me up from his lap and spins me around to face him, his eyes boring into mine. "Want what?" He grips my arms tightly, and he's shaking and biting his lip to keep his ever-growing grin from splitting his face in two.

I let the smile widen on my face, too. It's hard to contain, now that I'm actually thinking about it. "Kids. I want children, Peeta." Before I'm even done saying the last syllable he presses his lips to mine, and I find myself caught up in a fluster of kisses and laughs. I realize that this is the moment Peeta has been waiting to have for years.

I go along with his excitement and exuberance, and can't help but feel elated myself.

It's not until I'm throwing up in the toilet the next morning that I'm having second thoughts on the whole 'children' thing.

Peeta holds my hair back from my face, and although he still hasn't lost his glee from yesterday's news, he wavers between a smile and a grimace as I puke my guts out.

The rest of the day isn't very fun either. I crave food that we don't own, and throw up two more times before giving up with my stomach. Instead Peeta calls Haymitch and invites him over.

The man still looks fairly the same as a decade and a half ago, same cheekbones, same blue eyes. But he's gained some weight and his hair is thinning. He's aging more gracefully than Caesar Flickerman, however, who just had his seventieth birthday. That man has _pudged out._

Haymitch strolls in grinning, eyebrows raised. "Finally happened, huh?"

"What?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You're pregnant! For real this time!" he chuckles, referencing those wretched 75th Hunger Games.

"How'd you know? I didn't tell you on the phone." Peeta says, his voice carrying from the kitchen. He's making lunch, and it smells heavenly, but it also makes me nauseous.

"That goofy grin on your face, and the scowl on hers. I've been imagining your expressions for quite a while, and these are spot on." he pats my head and enters the kitchen as well, leaving me alone in the living room. I stand up and follow him in.

"When did it happen?" Haymitch asks Peeta.

"Yesterday at 5:15 she told me she wanted children." Peeta says, practically bouncing up and down. I realize that 5:15 will be Peeta's new favorite time of day… forever. He's into that sentimental stuff.

"That's so cute. Think of names yet? Could this little guy," he pats my flat stomach, "Be a Haymitch Jr.?"

"What if it's a girl?" I ask.

"I think Haymitch could be a unisex name." he strokes his chin.

"No." Peeta and I say in unison.

"Well then!" Haymitch fakes hurt, then chuckles and grabs the plate of chicken and rice Peeta offers him. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I accept another plate, shoveling the food into my mouth and feeling better with each swallow.

"We haven't even discussed names yet." I say with my mouth full. My mind flickers back to a dream I had years ago, where I named my children, but I can't quite recall what I'd chosen.

"Well you'd better get on that." Haymitch also ignores manners, rice spewing from his mouth as he speaks.

"We have nine months." Peeta says, setting out his own plate.

Nine months. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. Nine months seems like such a short time away. In nine months, I'll be holding a baby in my arms. _Our_ baby.

I excuse myself before leaving to heave my meal into the nearest toilet.

"You keep doing that and you'll vomit the baby into extinction." Haymitch calls from the kitchen. I rinse my mouth out and wisp my hair from my eyes.

"You keep talking like that, and next time I'll run towards you instead of the bathroom." I yell back. Laughing erupts from both of the men's mouths and I find myself smiling as well.

Haymitch spends the rest of the day with us before leaving back to his home.

Oh! Did I mention that Haymitch is engaged? Probably not. I'm so wrapped up in myself and the baby at the moment.

About ten years ago, Effie Trinket made a reappearance in District Twelve for a telecast. Don't ask me the details, (because honestly I didn't want to know them myself) but somehow Haymitch talked Effie into staying and the rest is history. Now the two are fiancées, but I'm doubting whether they'll ever really get married. Haymitch isn't the type for commitments, even if he's proven himself some by weaning himself off of alcohol.

Back to me. And Peeta, of course.

We slide back into bed at ten, and decide to throw out some baby names.

Jackson. Garret. Tyler. Maria. Rose.

After we've plowed through those, Peeta suggests that we find some with significance, instead of just ones that are pretty. He starts us off with Rue.

Rue. Prim. Finnick.

We quickly move on, realizing that it would be too difficult to look at our baby one day and call them by the name of our deceased beloveds.

We spew out a few more, we give up and roll onto our side for sleep.

That's when I remember. Coal. Ember. These were the names of my children.

Ember for the peace after the fire. Coal for the start of something new.

"Ember and Coal." I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hm?" Peeta hums next to me.

"Ember for a girl. Coal for a boy." I lick my lips, hoping he doesn't think these are the worst names ever.

"I love that." He grins, kissing the tip of my nose, "They're beautiful."

I don't know whether he means the names, or the pictures of our children in his mind, but I agree with both.


	40. Chapter 40

**(((A/N I apologize for the length of time it's taken for this to be posted. Life kinda sucks right now, if you know what I mean. But here's Chapter Forty, where we meet little Miss Mellark :) There will be one more chapter after this. _Please review with your favorite memory of this story, so that I know what you guys really__ loved!_**Thank you so much!))

So, pregnancy kind of makes me want to throw myself off of a cliff.

I hate how the lump forming on my mid-section makes me limbs look even scrawnier, and how I can't go hunting now because the extra weight of my belly keeps me unbalanced and slow.

Yet… there's something about this bump that keeps my heart warm all the time.

Peeta is being as helpful as he can and being a real sweetheart, but I believe I've become immune to that. He offers me a hand in everything I do now: to stand, to sit, to lie down, to take a shower, to sit on the toilet, to take use the stairs, even to eat. He'll just sit there and try to turn the spoon he's holding into an airplane and try to feed me. I think he's pretending that the baby _is_ me, instead of being _inside_ of me.

Every day I find myself staring down at my toes, which become less and less visible as the baby grows. I'm hoping it's a boy; Peeta hopes for a girl.

"How's she doing?" he'll say, with a rub of my stomach.

"I'm doing fine, thanks for asking." I'll say back sarcastically, but not bitterly.

These are the next forty-two weeks of my life. And then…

The baby comes early.

My water breaks.

Peeta is at the bakery.

Effie is with Haymitch in the town square.

I am panicking on the couch, making weird noises.

There's this feeling in my gut that makes me think about passing out, but I know that would be devastating with no one here.

I wobble over to the phone, careful to take one step at a time and keep my balance. I breathe in quickly, breathe out even faster, and push the numbers on the phone.

"Katniss? Is everything okay?" his voice hums over the line, his worry seeping through the telephone line.

"Baby." I say, "Baby, baby, baby, BABY!" I repeat, finding it the only thing I can say.

There's a crash on the other line, and I barely hear him call, "On my way!" from a distance. This gives me some sort of relief.

I don't want to ruin the couch or the carpet, so I sit on the kitchen floor with my back against the cabinets and try to steady my breathing for a few minutes. I feel the baby coming, but I have to wait for Peeta, I have to. I have no clue how to deal with a baby.

Suddenly I'm flooded with panic; what if Peeta has never learned how to treat a newborn? He worked at a bakery, his parents were both bakers, not nurses. If the baby isn't cared for immediately there could be side effects I don't want to think about…

Peeta comes bursting through the front door, and to my relief Hazelle follows.

"Katniss?" he calls out, clearly confused as to why I'm not lying on the comfortable couch.

"Here." I grunt.

Peeta slides across the tile floor and places a hand on my forehead, gripping my hand with the other. I dig my nails into his skin, but he doesn't complain.

Hazelle is so focused she doesn't greet me, she only lays a towel out on the floor, gives me one to put between my teeth, and gives me some instructions.

A few minutes later, after every bone in Peeta's hand is broken, and every ounce of energy has left my body, Hazelle is cradling our baby.

All of the hatred I felt for that stupid lump is extracted from my mind, replaced by a steady warmth and tug of my heart for the bundle in Hazelle's arms.

"It's a girl." She smiles at me and Peeta. I find myself ecstatic, despite my longing for a boy; right now I have a child, and that's all that matters. Peeta, on the other hand, jumps up and eagerly takes our little girl into his arms.

"This is going to sound so cliché… but she's beautiful." He mutters, his eyes watering. I have to swallow a lump in my throat as he passes her to me.

The moment my eyes meet her little nose, I burst into tears. I feel so emotional, and this would set anyone over the edge.

She has my nose, my dark hair that is matted to her damp head.

Her eyes blink open, the length of her thick eyelashes one of Peeta's assets, and I see that she has his bright blue eyes as well. My heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest.

"She is beautiful." I nod in agreement, one of my tears dropping onto the blanket wrapped around her.

"She looks a lot like you." Hazelle says quietly to Peeta. I feel a second of awkwardness, realizing that she used to imagine my baby would look like her son, Gale. But then I'm brought back to the moment, and as I kiss the tip of Ember's nose I feel a feeling I've never experienced, a new kind of love that differs from the love I have for Peeta.

I thank Hazelle for her help and send her home with some cookies as a thank you. She's getting older now and living with Posy, her daughter.

Peeta scoops me into his arms as soon as I realize I can't stand very well. He washes me up for the most part, and then sets me down in bed where I cuddle against him and rock Ember back and forth, feeling complete and utter glee in every pulse of my blood, every beat of my heart.

We've bought a crib for Ember, which stands in the corner of our room. Peeta has painted it a variety of colors, since we haven't been sure of the baby's gender until now. It's a bright, attention-grabbing object in our dull white room, one that seems perfectly out of place.

But that's just life, I guess. There are some good things, some bad things, some things that are so perfectly out of place that you can't help but wonder if the bad things are ultimately good in the end. Because with this baby in my arms, and this man at my side... well, this sure feels pretty damn good.


End file.
